137 28 31MB
English Pages 360 [361] Year 2023
Unparalleled Poetry
COGNITION AND POETICS Cognition and Poetics (CAP) fosters high-quality interdisciplinary research at the intersection of cognitive science, literature, the arts, and linguistics. The series seeks to expand the development of theories and methodologies that integrate research in the relevant disciplines to further our understanding of the production and reception of the arts as one of the most central and complex operations of the human mind. CAP welcomes submissions of edited volumes and monographs in English that focus on literatures and cultures from around the world. Series Editors: Alexander Bergs, University of Osnabrück Margaret H. Freeman, Myrifield Institute for Cognition and the Arts Peter Schneck, University of Osnabrück Achim Stephan, University of Osnabrück Advisory Board: Mark Bruhn, Regis University Denver, CO, USA Peer Bundgard, Aarhus University, Denmark Michael Burke, University College Roosevelt Middelburg, The Netherlands Wallace Chafe, University of California Santa Barbara, USA Barbara Dancygier, University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada Frank Jäkel, Universität Osnabrück, Germany Winfried Menninghaus, Freie Universität Berlin, Germany Keith Oatley, University of Toronto, Canada Jan Slaby, Freie Universität Berlin, Germany Reuven Tsur, Tel Aviv University, Israel Mark Turner, Case Western Reserve University Cleveland, OH, USA Simone Winko, Georg-August-Universität Göttingen, Germany Dahlia Zaidel, University of California Los Angles, USA Poetic Conventions as Cognitive Fossils Reuven Tsur Sexual Identities: A Cognitive Literary Study Patrick Colm Hogan Expressive Minds and Artistic Creations: Studies in Cognitive Poetics Edited by Szilvia Csábi 4e Cognition and Eighteenth-Century Fiction: How the Novel Found its Feet Karin Kukkonen Probability Designs: Literature and Predictive Processing Karin Kukkonen The Poem as Icon: A Study in Aesthetic Cognition Margaret H. Freeman Style in Narrative: Aspects of an Affective-Cognitive Stylistics Patrick Colm Hogan Kinesic Humor: Literature, Embodied Cognition, and the Dynamics of Gesture Guillemette Bolens Beckett and the Cognitive Method: Mind, Models, and Exploratory Narratives Marco Bernini
Unpar alleled Poetry A Cognitive Approach to the Free-Rhythm Verse of the Hebrew Bible Emmylou J. Grosser
Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and certain other countries. Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America. © Oxford University Press 2023 “Poem,” (“As the cat”). By William Carlos Williams, from THE COLLECTED POEMS: VOLUME I, 1909-1939, copyright ©1938 by New Directions Publishing Corp. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp. and Carcanet Press Limited All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above. You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer. CIP data is on file at the Library of Congress ISBN 978–0–19–090236–0 DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.001.0001 Printed by Integrated Books International, United States of America
To David
CONTENTS
Preface xi Acknowledgments xvii Introduction xix I.1. Gestalt Theory of Part/W hole xx I.2. The Significance of Lineation xxi I.3. Balance as a Cognitive Schema xxii Abbreviations and Symbols xxv PART I: Introductory Matters 1. Unparalleling Biblical Poetry 3 1.1. A Prose-Poetry Continuum versus a Prose-Verse Distinction 6 1.2. Metrical Studies and Their Decline 9 1.3. Parallelism and Biblical Poetry 10 1.4. Conformation, Not Parallelism 14 1.5. A Way Forward through Cognitive Poetics 15 2. A Preliminary Description of Biblical Verse 20 2.1. Biblical Poetry Is an Aural, and Not a Visual, Phenomenon 22 Excursus A. Ancient and Medieval Layouts of Biblical Poetry 23 Excursus B. What Did the Ancient Poems Sound Like? 31 2.2. Biblical Poetic Lines Are Not Cued by Text-Internal End- Marking; Rather, They Emerge in Patterned or Organized Relation to Each Other 33 2.3. Biblical Poetic Lines Emerge in Small Groupings, Often of Two or Three Lines, but Sometimes Larger 36 2.4. Biblical Poetry Is Free-Rhythm Poetry 38 2.5. Lines of Biblical Poetry Are of Variable Lengths, but They Tend to Fall within Certain Ranges 43 2.6. Biblical Poetic Lines Are Structural Units of Poems That Are Built from All Aspects of Language 46 2.7. Summary 50
3. The Nature of the Biblical Hebrew Poetic Line 51 3.1. The Nonlinearity of Biblical “Lines,” Graphically and Conceptually 55 3.2. The Emergence of Biblical Lines and Figures in Part-W hole Relationships 59 PART II: Gestalt Principles: Emergence of Biblical Poetic Structure 4. Perceptual Organization and the Law of Simplicity, Proximity and Similarity 69 4.1. Gestalt Part-W hole Perceptual Organization 71 4.2. The Fundamental Gestalt Law: Simplicity 78 4.3. The Principle of Proximity 81 4.4. The Principle of Similarity 86 5. Symmetry, Balance and Imbalance 107 5.1. The Principle of Symmetry 108 5.2. A Sampling of Symmetrical Line-Pairs 111 5.3. The Equilibrium of Symmetry 120 5.4. Weaker Symmetry, Near-Symmetry, Partial Symmetry 125 5.5. Balance and Leveling 135 5.6. Imbalance and Sharpening 144 5.7. Larger Patterns of Symmetry 148 5.8. A Symmetrical Poem: Qešet, “Bow” (2 Samuel 1:19–27) 161 5.9. The Perceptibility of Symmetry 168 6. Good Continuation, Closure, Requiredness, and Principled Lineations 172 6.1. The Principle of Good Continuation 173 6.2. The Principle of Closure 188 6.3. Requiredness 208 6.4. From Gestalt Principles to Principled Lineations 215 PART III: Remaining Issues 7. Integration and Unintegrated Lines, Rhythm in Lamentations, and Line-Length Constraints 225 7.1. Integration and Unintegrated Lines 226 7.2. Rhythm and Lines in Lamentations 1–4 247 7.3. Constraints on Short and Long Lines 257 7.4. Conclusion 270 8. Biblical Poetry and Prose 271 8.1. Prose and Verse, Verse and Poetry 272 8.2. Biblical Parallelism: Poetic Structure and Poetic Function Confusion 275
[ viii ] Contents
8.3. The Problem of a Features Approach to Identifying Biblical Poetry 277 8.4. Distinguishing Contextually between Prose and Verse 280 8.5. “Parallelism” in Prose Narrative 283 8.6. Elevated Style and Mixing of the Modes in the Prophets 288 8.7. Conclusion 292 . Conclusion: Unparalleled Poetry 293 9 9.1. Psalm 23 Revisited 294 9.2. Implications for Biblical and Comparative Studies 299 References 303 A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts 321
Contents [ ix ]
P R E FA C E
This book began as a revision of my PhD dissertation (“The Poetic Line as Part and Whole: A Perception-Oriented Approach to Lineation of Poems in the Hebrew Bible,” University of Wisconsin–Madison, 2013). It has continued on the same trajectory but has become a different book. The main reason for this change is the difference in driving questions. The main question I was asking in my dissertation research was how to lineate biblical poetic texts. That was a decent starting place: it allowed me to analyze various approaches to the line in biblical studies, and it gave me the opportunity to explore other approaches to poetic lines outside my field. Eventually it landed me in the perception-oriented work of Reuven Tsur’s cognitive poetics, which gave me a new way to think about the aural line in biblical poetry. The dissertation process provided some insights into certain poems as well, like David’s Lament. The content of the 2017 article that grew out of my dissertation research (“A Cognitive Poetics Approach to the Problem of Biblical Hebrew Poetic Lineation: Perception-Oriented Lineation of David’s Lament in 2 Samuel 1:19–27,” Hebrew Studies 58: 173–97) is included and further developed in this book. Although my dissertation’s driving question brought me to a better framework, it couldn’t overcome a basic problem in how I was thinking about biblical poetry. The question of “how to lineate” is full of underlying assumptions about what it means to lineate and why we would want to lineate in the first place. The now-standard practice of lineating biblical poetic texts on the page is a quite recent phenomenon in the history of textual transmission, yet modern biblical scholars assume that it is an essential step in interpretation. Why do we consider it essential? And why is it that the careful copiers of the text and the meticulous preservers of the tradition did not deem graphical lineation necessary? What are we hoping to accomplish beyond what they accomplished by lineating texts on the page (in Hebrew or in translation)? My paradigms for approaching biblical poetry shifted significantly as I spent more time reading biblical texts and thinking about the line in relation to the line-grouping. In my work on symmetry, I started to tease out how perceptual
forces impact biblical poetry, which was a leap forward from the study of perception of poetic structure to Tsur’s practice of cognitive poetics, which strives to link structures to potential effects. The material of my 2021 symmetry article (“What Symmetry Can Do That Parallelism Can’t: Line Perception and Poetic Effects in the Song of Deborah [Judges 5:2–31],” Vetus Tetamentum 71 [2]: 175–204) is incorporated into this book with a few changes, including a more nuanced discussion of balance based on a broader corpus than the song of Judges 5. My driving dissertation question of how to lineate was gradually replaced by “How should we conceive of the line-unit in biblical poetry?” Answering this question from a cognitive angle forced me to consider how biblical poetry differs not just in form and features but also in mental processing demands from my own native poetry traditions. The major distinction of my cognitive approach from predominant paradigms in biblical studies is that poetic structure must be understood as being realized in mental organization that emerges in the reading/hearing of texts. This doesn’t mean that any possible mental organization is legitimate; the subjective experience of biblical poetry functioned in communal contexts in the ancient world, and poetic structures emerge in principled ways from words carefully crafted by poets. Nor does it mean that poetic structure wasn’t communicated in specific ways in musical or oral performance. It simply proposes that “hearing” a biblical Hebrew poem according to the conventions of its own tradition requires the active cognitive organization of the material, from the line up, into ever-expanding part-whole structures as the poem is performed or read. Poetic structure and meaning thus emerge together, inseparably, in this dynamic process. Viewing structure as realized in mental organization allows us to explore which poetic effects are likely to arise in the reader/listener experience, even for ancient literature for which we have no native audiences. This is because the different ways human minds can organize material give rise to different emotional responses and felt experiences. As this book shows, this phenomenon—the interrelationship of mental organizations and poetic effects—is within the realm of research. For any readers who are concerned that this analytical approach takes the enjoyment out of the reading experience, the goal of this book isn’t to dissect mental organizations and responses but rather to shape and form readers of the biblical texts who can better appreciate and experience the verbal artistry of biblical poems. There is a kind of joy that can be found in dissection, and there is another kind of joy that is found in the experience of art. So then, why would or should we graphically lineate the biblical texts? I affirm with the preservers of the tradition that graphical lineation is unnecessary for the careful transmission of biblical poems. Poetic structures can be heard (that is, mentally organized) in the aural reading of the texts. Moreover, the biblical poetry system demands that the listener/reader dynamically and
[ xii ] Preface
actively mentally organize the “freely” emerging poetic structure. The experience of poetic effects in biblical poetry depends upon the listener/reader meeting this demand. The problem with graphical lineation of biblical texts is that it can get in the way of this mental organization and experience of effects. Graphical lineation inevitably changes (and may even remove) the demand for dynamic mental organization on the part of the modern reader, which affects the experience of poetic effects. The demand for active mental organization of structure is replaced with a given structure, which potentially introduces Western ways of mentally organizing lines. In addition, graphical lineation is extremely limited in formatting potential. There is no simple format that can capture both the importance of the line and the line-grouping, as well as the many different degrees and kinds of possible integration within line-groupings and stanzas. Nevertheless, a modern communal experience of these poems demands that we be clear about how we are hearing the poems, how we are mentally organizing the lines and line-groupings. My decision to graphically lineate biblical poems in this book is simply an attempt to elucidate my proposed organizations of poetic structure for the reader. For simplicity of format (with Hebrew and English side by side), I arrange one poetic line-unit per graphical line. I indicate aspects of the integration within and between line-groupings through punctuation in English translation, and I indicate distinct line- groupings through the alternation of non-italicized and italicized line numbers (e.g., 1a, 1b, 2a, 2b). This format is not intended as “the right one” for biblical poetry. One disadvantage is that it does not communicate well the part-whole integration of figures; the lines look quite “linear,” with the risk of all the accompanying baggage of linearity (see chapter 3). The advantages and disadvantages of different formats of biblical poetry should be an ongoing discussion for layouts of both the Hebrew poetic texts and translations. This book is divided into three parts of three chapters each. Part I focuses on introductory matters. Chapter 1 raises the basic problems that the book is seeking to solve: what the “line” is in traditionally unlineated biblical poetry, and why “line” structure matters. These overarching problems are set in the context of modern biblical poetry scholarship, and the solution of a cognitive constraints approach is introduced. Chapter 2 provides a preliminary description of biblical verse-poetry. Chapter 3 explores the nature of the line in biblical verse-poetry, arguing that the line emerges in the part-whole mental organization of lines in relation to line-groupings. Part II explains how lines and line-groupings emerge in biblical poetry. The mental organization and patterning of lines can be accounted for through the Gestalt principles of perception. Chapter 4 introduces Gestalt theory and the law of simplicity and explains and demonstrates the principles of proximity and similarity in biblical poetic texts. Chapter 5 explains and demonstrates
Preface [ xiii ]
the principle of symmetry, as well as the nature of balance and imbalance in biblical poetic texts. Chapter 6 explains and demonstrates the principles of good continuation and closure and the concept of requiredness. It closes with a discussion about how to move from Gestalt principles of perception to principled lineations of biblical texts. Part III addresses remaining issues in biblical poetry. Chapter 7 discusses the art of integration and unintegrated lines, the so-called qinah meter of Lamentations 1–4, and how the cognitive constraints of Gestalt and immediate memory affect how short and how long lines can be in biblical poetry. Chapter 8 addresses various issues relating to biblical poetry and prose, with discussions of real textual problems. Chapter 9 revisits the basic problems the book began with, demonstrating through a return to Psalm 23 that this cognitive approach to biblical poetry can elucidate both the poetic structure (lines and line-groupings) of the psalm and also the psalm’s unique potential for effects (in relation to the emergence of the lines and line-groupings). The chapter closes with implications of this book for future biblical and comparative studies. One of the major challenges in writing this book has been to be mindful of my different audiences, some of whom read Biblical Hebrew and some of whom do not. Readers from diverse fields will have different reasons for reading this book and different expectations for what they will get out of it. Italicized paragraphs at the beginning of each chapter are intended to help readers decide whether they are interested in a walk (understanding the theory and approach), a jog (digging into enough textual examples to illustrate the theory/ approach), or a marathon (engaging with all the detailed textual analyses). Although detailed discussions of the biblical text can get tedious, I intentionally chose and ordered the examples, and I trust that the marathon readers will appreciate this. Reading the ancient texts of the Hebrew Bible raises a great variety of exegetical issues (e.g., text-critical, lexical, grammatical). These discussions, mostly of interest to biblical scholars, have been relegated to footnotes. A few technical notes are necessary: The Hebrew text in this book includes both vocalization and accent (cantillation) markings. I have transliterated the Hebrew text and translated word by word, insofar as possible, with footnotes as needed. The Hebrew text is read from right to left, but the transliterations of the Hebrew into Roman characters go from left to right, like the English translations. Where I mark Masoretic phrasings in the transliteration and translation, I depart from the framework of the Law of Continuous Dichotomy (LCD) and follow instead the prosodic linguistic framework of Sophia Pitcher (2020; forthcoming). According to this framework, disjunctive accents indicate prosodic boundaries of both major and minor prosodic phrases, and the minor prosodic phrases are embedded in
[ xiv ] Preface
major prosodic phrases. The accents typically considered “major disjunctives” according to the LCD (silluq, ʿoleh we-yored, ʾathnach, segolta, zaqeph), as well as reviaʿ, mark major prosodic phrase boundaries, while the other disjunctive accents mark minor prosodic phrase boundaries (see further, section 4.3). In this book, I use two distinct meanings of the word “verse.” Bible verses are numbered portions of text (in both the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament and New Testament) of variable lengths. This verse system allows for references to a specific portion of text (e.g., Psalm 1:1 =Psalm chapter 1, verse 1). A verse of the Bible may correspond with a line-grouping of poetry, but this is not necessarily the case. In this sense, “verse” says nothing about poetic structure, but is simply a textual reference. The other sense of “verse” relates to the concepts of poetry, verse, and prose. In this second sense, “verse” refers to a particular structural mode: a text in verse is composed in lines (not necessarily graphically), in contrast to a text in prose. Biblical texts composed in verse have a specific potential for effects due to the artistry of the line; I refer to these texts as “biblical poetry” or “biblical verse-poetry.” I use the standard term “line” for the basic structural and rhythmic unit of verse, a phenomenon attested cross- culturally. I use (my own) term “line-grouping” for the small structural groupings of lines (often twos or threes, but sometimes larger) that are essential to the biblical poetic versification system. I use the term “stanza” in a general way for larger shapes and groupings of lines that emerge as distinct subwholes of biblical poems. By “poetic structure,” I mean lines and line-groupings and the larger units they form. When I refer to verses of the biblical text, I use references (e.g., 1:1) or the abbreviation for verse/verses (e.g., v. 1, vv. 1–2). When referring to lines, I use a number with a Roman letter (e.g., 1a), except for the rare instances where a line corresponds with a verse (in which case there is no Roman letter included). I count syllables based on the historical stage of Hebrew after the loss of case endings/final short vowels but before anaptyxis (e.g., in qatl forms, including III-yod bases) and before pretonic/propretonic vowel reduction that is present in the Masoretic vocalization. In cases of uncertain syllable count (e.g., uncertain historical bases, Kethiv/Qere variants), I list all the possible counts (separated by “/”). For historical noun bases, I follow Bauer, Leander, and Kahle (1991). For more details on pre-Masoretic ancient Hebrew, see excursus B in section 2.1 and also section 4.4. By “levels of language,” I mean the different aspects of language studied as phonology (including prosodic phonology), morphology, syntax, and semantics. When I refer to “surface structure,” I am not implying a division of language into “surface structure” and “deep structure” in the theoretical generative grammar sense. I do not find “deep structure” approaches to syntax beneficial for understanding either biblical poetic structure or its effects.
Preface [ xv ]
Rather, I use “surface structure” in a nontechnical way for aspects of the text that are vocalized and heard. For example, in grammatically elliptical structures, there is a meaningful distinction between the words that are present (vocalized and heard) and those that must be filled in by the listener. The Hebrew text reproduced in this book is the Westminster Leningrad Codex. This is a descendant of the Michigan-Claremont Hebrew text, encoded in 1981–82 at the University of Michigan, from the printed edition of Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia, under the direction of H. Van Dyke Parunak and Richard E. Whitaker with the financial support of the Packard Foundation. The Westminster Leningrad Codex has been modified in many places by the late J. Alan Groves and others to bring it into conformity with the Leningrad Codex. The text is in the public domain; credit is given to the J. Alan Groves Center for Advanced Biblical Research for their ongoing work in correcting and distributing the text.
[ xvi ] Preface
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book has been a long journey. Looking back on that journey makes me realize anew how little credit I can take either for planning the itinerary or for finding the countless provisions along the way, without which the whole project would have dead-ended. The itinerary and the provisions were gifts. Many of these provisions came through people. Teachers throughout my life in various fields have shaped this interdisciplinary project, and I am indebted to all of them. Specifically, Duane Garrett introduced me to the complexities of biblical poetry and modeled careful listening to the biblical text. He also gave valuable feedback on versions of this manuscript. I thank Cynthia Miller-Naudé for solid language and linguistic teaching and for advising and overseeing my dissertation and encouraging me to branch out into cognitive poetics. Both Michael V. Fox and Cynthia Miller-Naudé impressed upon me careful reading and meticulous scholarship. I am humbled by the many scholars in diverse fields who have gone before me and provided insights and observations that I needed to think in new ways about biblical poetry and poetry in general. In particular, I am indebted to Reuven Tsur for his brilliant research and writings, and for his hospitality and gracious conversation in Jerusalem when I had just begun to explore the field of cognitive poetics. The George L. Mosse graduate exchange program at the University of Wisconsin–Madison provided the dissertation fellowship that made this meeting possible. I hope that this book is a tribute to his remarkable life of scholarship. Reuven is also to thank for connecting me with Margaret Freeman and the Myrifield Institute for Cognition and the Arts. I have benefited greatly from times spent there, from conversations with Margaret, and from her feedback on and support of this project through its many stages. The Myrifield colloquium allowed me to present an early form of my research on lineation and David’s Lament. I am grateful to the Department of Hebrew at the University of the Free State (Bloemfontein, South Africa) for the support as a research fellow, and to Kevin Chau for arranging the department colloquium in which I first presented on symmetry. Sophia Pitcher graciously stepped in to deepen my
understanding of prosodic phonology. I am indebted to Michael Lyons for his indispensable encouragement over the years, both his insightful interaction with my dissertation and ongoing stimulating conversations and feedback on the topics and manuscript of this book. I also thank Chip Dobbs-Allsopp, Adele Berlin, and Ed Greenstein for so generously engaging in conversation at various stages of this project. Countless people in many places have supported me in this project through encouragement, prayers, childcare, and gracious acts of service. Specifically, I thank my faith communities in Madison, Jerusalem, and Minneapolis. I wouldn’t have made it without the writing retreats at the Huisken House, hosted by my friends Wendy (Widder) and Rick Huisken, who provided friendship, good food, and both space and receptive ears for processing. Other patient listeners include Georgia Loughren (who didn’t stop cheering), the Micah study group, and my daughter, Hannah, and the Avail Academy sixth graders. Deepest appreciation goes to my family. Thanks and love to my parents, Sherwin and Roberta Fast, and parents-in-law, Jim and Ann-Elise Grosser, for their abundant support that takes many forms. My husband, David, gave me a reason to care about biblical poetry and the Song of Songs in the first place and is the primary sounding board for all of my ideas. He has made countless sacrifices for this project, as have my children Hannah, Patrick, Toviah, and Katriel. Thank you, family, for your patience and perspective and gifts of joy. You’ve slowed down my ambitions and given me the ability to look at the parts and the whole quite differently. I’m so glad we get to be on this journey together.
[ xviii ] Acknowledgments
INTRODUCTION
In 2014, Emmylou Grosser presented an intriguing account of her cognitive approach to biblical Hebrew poetry at a workshop sponsored by Myrifield Institute for Cognition and the Arts. As a co-editor of the Cognition and Poetics series at Oxford University Press, I encouraged Grosser to consider publishing her book with us. It was a difficult challenge for her to undertake. We were asking her to write with two very different audiences in mind: biblical Hebrew scholars and researchers in cognitive approaches to poetry. Unparalleled Poetry is the result of that challenge. The question is why this intensive and detailed study of biblical Hebrew poetry should be of interest and value to cognitive scholars and general readers of poetry. Or cognitive research to biblical scholars. The quick answer is that the question of biblical Hebrew poetry strikes at the heart of poetic cognition: what makes a poem a poem. Grosser addresses a primary question for biblical scholars: Because biblical Hebrew texts do not lineate what is otherwise recognizable as poetry as opposed to prose narrative, what determines such passages as poetry? The texts have neither an observable meter nor any indication, such as rhyme, to mark line endings. Grosser challenges the idea of parallelism as the structuring principle, hence her title: Unparalleled Poetry: A Cognitive Approach to the Free-Rhythm Verse of the Hebrew Bible. If Grosser is right that poetry perception lies in how we hear and mentally organize, both aurally and temporally, line-groupings in relation to each other within an unlineated text, then it is possible to discover and explicate the cognitive principles involved. Line boundaries evoke the emotive forces that both motivate the poet and govern a reader’s response. As human beings, we are all cognitive readers. But just as we know and use our native language without necessarily knowing what it is we know, so we implicitly employ our cognitive faculties in writing and reading. By making such capabilities explicit, modern cognitive research not only questions traditional assumptions about the way we think; it reveals a better understanding of our embodied cognitive faculties, faculties that are not just properties of
our conceptual, rational thoughts. They underlie our sensory perceptions, our motor functions, and our emotive processes. The following sections address three aspects of Grosser’s argument as it contributes to cognitive poetic theory: part/whole, lineation, and balance.
I.1. GESTALT THEORY OF PART/W HOLE
Construing a biblical passage as poetry, Grosser argues, is determined by how the parts constitute the whole. The question then becomes how best to characterize that. Definitive descriptions don’t stop poets from experimenting with all kinds of different forms, and the practice of “free verse” reaches back into ancient cultures. If the term “free verse” is oxymoronic, “prose poem” is even worse. T. S. Eliot’s “poetic prose” is better but still raises the question of what determines the difference between poetry and prose. It is no surprise that poets are the best proponents of what constitutes poetry. Robert Frost wrote a brief essay titled “The Figure a Poem Makes.” Ezra Pound noted that what makes a poetic fact “poetic” is not its content but its shape. It is not the individual features of a given poem that determine its structure. It is rather the overall poem’s prosody—its total configuration of sounds and patterns—that constitutes the shape of the whole. So, rather than referring to the structure of a poem as metrical or free verse, I suggest the term “figuration.” Figuration captures the Gestalt notion of the whole in a given poem: its shape and sound, its rhythmic movement in time and space. With her knowledge of Hebrew, Grosser shows how the prosody of biblical Hebrew poetry reveals its Gestalt figuration. Poetry is prosodic verse. Its structure is figuration. Its form can take any particular shape, as does a sonnet, ode, haiku, kanshi, and so on. These terms all refer to the poem as a whole, with the shape of its parts determined by that whole. Figuration can take many forms, depending on language, culture, and convention. Its prosody, however, is always aural and temporal, and sometimes visual. As Charles Hartman (1980) points out in Free Verse: An Essay on Prosody, “A line is ‘free’ until its prosody is discovered” (18). He notes that readers may easily discover the prosody of a poem belonging to their own tradition. But a poem alien to their experience can be puzzling or even mystifying. This emphasis is important for understanding how a cognitive approach can clarify the nature of poetry in general. Verse that uses nonmetrical prosody comes historically from two different sources: “freed” verse that is “set self-consciously against traditional meters” or verse that adopts the principles of rhythm and order in the more ancient forms of poetry that predate the rise of meter (Hartman 1980: 136). Biblical
[ xx ] Introduction
Hebrew poetry is an example of the latter. Use of the term “measure” avoids the metrical/nonmetrical perception altogether. What is measured depends on the conventions of the particular language. For instance, Chinese words are monosyllabic, and pitch is distinguished by four tones, so that Chinese prosody tends to distribute set patterns of tones over set numbers of words (Hartman 1980: 16). Even though poets may be following a particular pattern such as meter, I doubt that any poet worthy of the name uses it as a template for construction. Halle and Keyser (1971) dispensed altogether with the notion of “feet” in English poetry, though their focus on metrical analysis says nothing about how a poet uses meter. Attempts to scan a line of meter can identify patterns but not explain the variations possible. Poets writing in meter can “hear” the metrical line without using it as a template. Consider Alexander Pope’s use of the 12-position Alexandrine in two lines from his Essay on Criticism: A needless Alexandrine ends the song, That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along. ... Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, Flies o’er th’ unbending corn, and skims along the main. The contrast between the two lines is notable not for the way they can be scanned but for the way their movement (slowness in the snake, rapidity in Camilla) is created by a combination of rhythmic grouping and sound conjunctions (consonantal closure in snake, open vowel in Camilla). J. V. Cunningham puts the point succinctly: “Metrical analysis is irrelevant to poetry; metrical perception is of the essence” (quoted in Hartman 1980: 118). Even the measures of English metrical poetry do not conform to a rigid template in the accentual-syllabic tradition. Rather, as Grosser notes, prosody is the poet’s method of controlling readers’ attention to the experience of the poem.
I.2. THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LINEATION
Paramount for lineation is the question of boundaries. Unlike metrical boundaries that are established by the number of positions in the line, free- verse lines can be of any length. Line boundaries alone, however, do not a poem make. Stanley Fish (1980), in “How to Recognize a Poem When You See One,” created a lineated list of linguists’ names. He had to tell his students that it was a poem before they began to focus their attention on how it was—or could be— a poem (322–37). He even added the information that it was a religious poem
Introduction [ xxi ]
to guide his students to read it a certain way (and chose names that could be given religious significance, like Jacobs[on] and Levin). In no way would the students have exercised their ingenuity in decoding the lineated list of names as a poem unless they had been so instructed. This is not to say that creating verse lines does not make a difference. Hartman describes how opponents of free verse showed its “formlessness” by, on the one hand, lineating a prose passage, then on the other unlineating a free-verse poem. He cites one example in which Amy Lowell concluded, “Typography is not relevant to the discussion. Whether a thing is written as prose or as verse is immaterial.” Hartman is correct that Lowell “lacked an adequate sense of the principles violated by that act” (1980: 60). Those principles include the cognitive affects created by the ways the lines are read. What is cognitively important about lineation is not simply the meaning it creates but the affect it has depending on how lines divide. For instance, in Jonah 2:4, Grosser lineates the two sentences as follows: 4a And-you-cast-me the-deep, 4b into-heart-of seas 4c and-sea-current surrounded-me. 4d All your-breakers and-your-waves 4e over-me passed. Reading the translation aloud, the line division between 4c and 4d causes a mental link of 4d in apposition to 4c: the sea current described as breakers and waves. Had there been no lineation dividing 4d from 4e, one would recognize a simple parallel structure with 4c. Because the equivalent phrase to 4c, “over-me passed,” is placed on a separate line, this creates an off-balance, so that now 4d, “All your breakers and your waves,” stands as a continuation of the entire first sentence. Line 4e then comes as a surprise: “over-me passed.” This may be a subtle distinction, but cognitively, the effect foregrounds “over- me passed” to give a vivid feeling of the sea no longer simply surrounding Jonah but finally engulfing him as he sinks down into it.
I.3. BALANCE AS A COGNITIVE SCHEMA
We can think of human cognition in the form of a cognitive tree. Below the surface of our awareness lie the roots of our sensate faculties. Just as the living tree survives by drawing sustenance through its roots, so do all our cognitive activities depend on sensate cognition. And just as the roots of the tree are nourished by the earth in which they are embedded, so do sensate experiences draw from the physical and social worlds of our environment. These
[ xxii ] Introduction
subliminal experiences feed into our conceptual cognition by means of what cognitive researchers call schemata. Schemata represent the different ways we interact bodily with our environment. Each schema carries with it the potentiality of its opposite: balance against imbalance, linearity against circularity, obstruction against restraint removal. Balance is a pervasive experience of our being in the world. It is something we learn with our bodies, something we do. As Johnson (1987: 74) notes, “Balancing is a preconceptual bodily activity that cannot be described propositionally by rules.” It is a bodily experience that we are not aware of until we become off-balanced, whether from physical movement that makes us stagger or visceral imbalance in our nervous system, such as being too hot or too cold. We project those bodily experiences of balance into our perceptions and conceptions. Grosser’s Gestalt elements of similarity, symmetry, proximity, and equilibrium are all metaphorical projections of the basic BALANCE schema. Any violation or distortion of these elements will be foregrounded in our attention, so that restoration of balance brings us a sense of an ending, of emotional closure. If schemata indeed enable us to both express and share sentient, emotional, and physiological experiences as well as conceptual meanings, then exploring the nature and function of imaginative schemata through the expressive forms of poetry furthers our understanding of these cognitive processes. Grosser’s explanation shows that lineation and part/whole foreground the force dynamics of the BALANCE schema. Without lineation of part/whole, there is no conscious awareness of balance. Unparalleled Poetry thus provides evidence for the existence of a poetic cognition, relevant and formative for poetry across all languages and cultures. The question of biblical Hebrew poetry indeed strikes at the heart of what makes a poem a poem. Margaret H. Freeman, Myrifield Institute for Cognition and the Arts
REFERENCES Fish, Stanley. 1980. Is There a Text in This Class? The Authority of Interpretive Communities. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Halle, Morris, and Samuel Jay Keyser. 1971. English Stress: Its Form, Its Growth, and Its Role in Verse. New York: Harper and Row. Hartman, Charles O. 1980. Free Verse: An Essay on Prosody. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Johnson, Mark. 1987. The Body in the Mind: The Bodily Basis of Meaning, Imagination, and Reason. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Introduction [ xxiii ]
A B B R E V I AT I O N S A N D S Y M B O L S
ABBREVIATIONS
1 Chr 1 Sam 1cs 2 Chr 2 Kgs 2 Sam 3fp 3fs 3ms A BDB BHK BHQ BHRG BHS Deut Eccl Esth ET Exod Ezek Gen GKC HALOT IBHS
1 Chronicles 1 Samuel 1st person common singular 2 Chronicles 2 Kings 2 Samuel 3rd person feminine plural 3rd person feminine singular 3rd person masculine singular Aleppo Codex Brown, Driver, and Briggs (A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament) Biblia Hebraica, ed. R. Kittel (1905–6) Biblia Hebraica Quinta (2004–) A Biblical Hebrew Reference Grammar (van der Merwe, Naudé, and Kroeze) Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia (1983) Deuteronomy Ecclesiastes Esther English Translation (where verse numbering differs from Hebrew) Exodus Ezekiel Genesis Genesius-Kautzsch-Cowley (Gesenius’ Hebrew Grammar) The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (Kohler, Baumgartner, and Stamm) An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Waltke and O’Connor)
impf. Isa Jer Josh Judg K KJV L Lam Lev LXX masc. Mic MT MW NAS NJPS NRSV Num O OG o.m. pf. pl. PP Pred Prov Ps(s) Q Qoh RSV S sg. Smr Song Syr Tg u.p. V v./vv. Voc
imperfect Isaiah Jeremiah Joshua Judges Kethiv (“written”) King James Version Leningrad Codex Lamentations Leviticus Septuagint (ancient Greek translation) masculine Micah Masoretic Text Merriam-Webster (merriam-webster.com) New American Standard Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures: The New JPS Translation according to the Traditional Hebrew Text New Revised Standard Version Numbers object Old Greek (ancient Greek translation) object marker perfect plural prepositional phrase predicate Proverbs Psalm(s) Qere (“to be read”) Qohelet (Ecclesiastes) Revised Standard Version subject singular Samaritan (ancient Hebrew version of Pentateuch) Song of Songs Peshitta (ancient Syriac translation) Targum (ancient Aramaic paraphrase) untranslated particle verb verse/verses vocative
[ xxvi ] Abbreviations and Symbols
Vulg YHWH
Vulgate (ancient Latin translation) consonants of the name for Israel’s God; traditionally vocalized Adonai (translated in English “the Lord”), likely historical pronunciation Yahweh
For an explanation of Qumran/ Judean Desert manuscript abbreviations (Dead Sea Scrolls), see The SBL Handbook of Style, 2nd ed. (Atlanta: SBL, 2014), 126–28.
SYMBOLS
* / () [ ] - () | - ~ [ ] () ‹ › |
unattested form (e.g., historical reconstructions, altered text) indicates boundary between poetic lines In the Hebrew text Kethiv (“written”) reading Qere (“to be read”) reading In transliterations of the Hebrew represents maqqeph (hyphen in Hebrew text) indicates minor prosodic phrase marks major prosodic phrase boundary In English translations of the Hebrew connects words in translation that represent one Hebrew word represents maqqeph (hyphen in Hebrew text) grammatical ellipsis in the Hebrew words filled in to smooth out translation; for phrasing, indicates minor prosodic phrase place holder for an untranslated Hebrew word marks major prosodic phrase boundary
Abbreviations and Symbols [ xxvii ]
PART I
Introductory Matters
CHAPTER 1
Unparalleling Biblical Poetry I begin this chapter with a well-known psalm, Psalm 23, to illustrate two practical problems facing readers of biblical poems that this book aims to solve: What are poetic “lines” in (traditionally unlineated) biblical poetry, and why does it even matter? The first problem relates to poetic structure, and the second problem relates to poetic effects. The relationship between poetic structures and poetic effects is central to the cognitive approach of this book. To address the problem of biblical poetry structure, however, we must first understand the context of modern biblical poetry scholarship and how it has shaped conceptions of biblical poetry. In this chapter I describe one major issue and two key frameworks in modern biblical poetry scholarship: whether biblical poetry is best defined by style or structure, and the frameworks of meter and parallelism. I accept that biblical verse-poetry relates to structure, not simply to style, and I reject the frameworks of meter and parallelism for biblical verse-poetry. Drawing from Robert Lowth’s term “conformation” (rather than “parallelism”), I assert that biblical verse-poetry is built from lines that fit to each other, not lines that fit to a meter. This raises the cognitive question of how the free-rhythm lines of unlineated biblical poetry can be perceived or mentally organized as structural- rhythmic units by the listener or reader. I introduce a cognitive-constraints solution to this problem that is based in the theory and method of Reuven Tsur’s cognitive poetics.
Psalm 23 ׁשֹובב ֑ ֵ ְל־מי ְמנֻ ֣חֹות יְ נַ ֲה ֵ ֽלנִ י׃ נַ ְפ ִ ׁ֥שי י ֖ ֵ הו֥ה ֜ר ֹ ֗ ִעי ֣ל ֹא ֶא ְח ָ ֽסר׃ ִּבנְ ֣אֹות ֶּ֭ד ֶׁשא יַ ְר ִּב ֵיצ֑נִ י ַע ָ ְִמזְ ֥מֹור ְל ָדִו֑ד י ֥י־א ָ ּ֥תה ִע ָּמ ִ ֑די ִׁש ְב ְטָך ַ ירא ָ ֗רע ִּכ ֤ ָ א־א ִ֨ ֹ י־א ֵ ֙לְך ְּב ֵג֪יא ַצ ְל ָ֡מוֶ ת ל ֵ י־צ ֶדק ְל ַ ֣מ ַען ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ַּג֤ם ִ ּֽכ ֜ ֶ֗ ַיֽנְ ֵ ֥חנִ י ְב ַמ ְעּגְ ֵל ּכֹוסי ְרוָ ָיֽה׃ ַ ֤אְך׀ ֥ ִ אׁשי ִ֗ ֹ ּו֜ ִמ ְׁש ַענְ ֶּ֗תָך ֵ ֣ה ָּמה יְ ַנ ֲֽח ֻ ֽמנִ י׃ ַּת ֲע ֬ר ְֹך ְל ָפנַ֙ י׀ ֻׁש ְל ָ֗חן ֶנ�֥גֶ ד צ ְֹר ָ ֑רי ִּד ַ ּׁ֖שנְ ָּת ַב ֶ ּׁ֥ש ֶמן ֜ר יָמים׃ ֽ ִ א ֶרְך ֹ ֣ הוה ְל ֗ ָ ית־י ְ֜ ל־יְמי ַח ָּי֑י וְ ַׁש ְב ִ ּ֥תי ְּב ֵב ֣ ֵ ֤טֹוב וָ ֶ ֣ח ֶסד ִי ְ֭ר ְּדפּונִ י ָּכ
Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0001
T
he LORD is my shepherd; I shall lack nothing.1 He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my life; he guides me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. So begins an especially beloved biblical poem, attributed to the shepherd, king, and poet David, which eventually came to be called the twenty-third psalm. Readers and listeners of many times and places have delighted in these words, in Hebrew or in translation—in the metaphor of God as Shepherd, carefully tending and guiding the psalmist, his sheep. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death—philologists point out that the Hebrew word typically translated “shadow of death” more likely derives from a single root that means “darkness.” But “shadow of death” better captures how the pieces of the word sound in Hebrew.2 In poetic language, sounds of words affect how the message is heard and experienced. The valley of deepest gloom may invoke, through semantic associations with the word’s phonetic components, the image of a valley shaded by death itself. Yet, the psalmist asserts, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. The psalmist communicates his steadfast trust, due to the Shepherd’s presence and protection in even the most ill-boding circumstances. The imagery shifts to God as Host: You arrange a table for me in the presence of my enemies; you refresh my head with oil, my cup overflows. Surely goodness and steadfast love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will return to the house of the LORD for many long days.3 God’s provision includes not just protection but also abundant hospitality—hospitality that extends even into the domain of the psalmist’s enemies. Surprisingly, it is not the enemies, but the goodness and steadfast love of God, that turn out to be the perpetual pursuers! The image of lifelong pursuit shifts to a closing image of lifelong rest: the psalmist expresses his confidence of his return to God’s house for the remainder of his days.4 Undoubtedly, we can appreciate Psalm 23 as a poetic psalm, even in translation, as we hear the verbal artistry of its metaphors and imagery. The message 1. The English phrase “the LORD” represents the Hebrew word YHWH, the unique name of the God of Israel, most likely pronounced “Yahweh.” 2. I.e., the Hebrew word ṣalmāwet sounds, on the surface, as if it derives from the two words ṣēl (“shadow”) and māwet (“death”). Its historical derivation is more likely from a single root, ṣ-l-m (see Cohen 1996). The Masoretic vocalization reflects this folk etymology, a kind of language change in which words are altered to match an assumption about the form from which they derived. Note that this is the opposite of a poet drawing out the actual etymology of a word when the word’s meaning has lost its earlier etymological nuance. On the Masoretic vocalization of ṣalmāwet, see Joosten 2015: 27–28. 3. This translation reflects one possible Hebrew (MT) reading, “return” rather than “dwell,” which, followed by the preposition b-(“in”), still requires the sense of “return [to be/dwell] in the house of the LORD.” On the textual and grammatical issues, see ch. 9, n3. 4. Hebrew “house” can refer to a human dwelling or a divine dwelling. Thus, in ancient Israelite context, the “house of YHWH” is the temple, the place of YHWH’s dwelling on earth. The metaphor of God as Host in this psalm culminates in the psalmist’s confidence of return to this special place of divine presence and provision. [ 4 ] Introductory Matters
of the psalmist’s steadfast trust and God’s steadfast provision gets through. But something integral to poetry has been missing from the discussion of Psalm 23 thus far: the poetic line, that is, the basic unit of rhythm and structure that characterizes verse-poetry across diverse languages and cultures. Most modern translations arrange Psalm 23 in poetic lines on the page, but the practice of special layouts for biblical texts developed significantly later than the compositions. The ancient Hebrew poetic texts, whenever they were first written down, would not likely have been written in a format of poetic lines segmented on a page but rather, continuously, like prose.5 The lineation of Psalm 23 and other biblical poems is not a given; it must be defended rather than assumed. Biblical poems are typically lineated according to regular rhythms and parallelism—that is, correspondences of especially grammar or meaning between adjacent segments of text. But the rhythms of Psalm 23 are irregular, and the only indisputable occurrence of parallelism in the psalm (and thus the only undisputed lineation) is v. 2:6 He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. What do we do with this conundrum, that Psalm 23 exhibits some of the most moving poetic images and lyrical language in the psalter, but our default understanding of lines (regular rhythms and parallelism) cannot account for the verbal shapes of this poem? Most often, biblical scholars seem content to view Psalm 23 as an atypical poem,7 though at least one poetry scholar has suggested
5. On the layouts of the ancient biblical texts, see excursus A in section 2.1. My translation of Psalm 23 here generally follows the phrasing of the medieval Masoretic cantillation, with periods at the ends of verses and other punctuation marks at major disjunctive accents. Biblical verse divisions (e.g., Psalm 23, verse 1) are used in both prose and poetry and are not to be confused with prosodic versification, i.e., division into poetic lines. Verse division of both prose and poetic texts in the Hebrew Bible probably dates to the period of the Talmud (c. 135–500 ce), though verse numbering was first included in Bibles after the invention of the printing press (see Brotzman and Tully 2016: 32; Penkower 2000). Biblical verses correspond with short sense units of the text but are usually longer than single poetic lines. 6. Greenstein views the two clauses of 23:1 as parallel through a broader definition of parallelism that includes balance of line lengths (1986–87: 39). This raises the important question of what balance is, how it functions in biblical poetry, and how it is related to lineation, topics that are explored specifically in sections 5.5 and 5.6. Scholars are divided on whether Ps 23:6 is two parallel lines or four lines with parallelism that extends beyond the line. Some scholars would call the conjoined phrase in v. 4, “your rod and your staff,” line-internal parallelism (see, e.g., Couey’s discussion of kinds of parallelism with respect to lineation; 2015: 34–37). These examples demonstrate how both the disputed definitions of parallelism and parallelism’s uncertain relation to lineation complicate discussions of the lineation of Ps 23. 7. E.g., after Pardee’s detailed study of the different kinds of parallelism in Ps 23, he concludes, “Whoever created this work was aware of how what we characterize as
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 5 ]
that Psalm 23 may not be a poem at all (Watson 2005: 45). The acknowledgment that our typical starting places for lineating biblical poems—regular rhythms and parallelism—are inadequate for Psalm 23 is not particularly controversial. This book contends, however, that these starting places—regular rhythms and parallelism—are inadequate not just for Psalm 23 but for the poetry of the Hebrew Bible as a whole.8 The problems of Psalm 23 are not unique in biblical texts: what makes a line a line, whether one lineation is to be preferred over another, how rhythmically irregular lines can be, whether a particular text is composed in verse or prose. Moreover, we must question why it is that we should speak of “lines” and “lineation” at all for traditionally unlineated texts, and why the correct “lineation” of these unlineated texts even matters. “Lineation” of biblical poems is a problem much bigger in scope than Psalm 23 and requires a better understanding of what the line is in biblical poetry and how it works. That is the primary task of this book, but we will see that the implications of lineation for biblical poetry go far beyond the individual line, from poetic structure (at various levels) to poetic effects. This chapter will introduce the solution of a cognitive constraints model. But first, we need to understand these lineation issues within the broader context of modern biblical poetry scholarship.
1.1. A PROSE-P OETRY CONTINUUM VERSUS A PROSE-V ERSE DISTINCTION
Most biblical scholars accept at least a basic distinction between prose and poetry in the Bible.9 The book of Job, for example, has a clear prose narrative frame (1:1–3:2, 42:7–17) around the poetic speeches that comprise the heart of the book. Judges 4 is a prose narrative account of the events celebrated in the poetic song of Judges 5. In such texts, a strong distinction is evident— not simply a distinction of style or genre but also a distinction of structural mode: the poetic texts are compositions structured in lines, and the prose texts are structured in continuous sentences lacking the relatively short, regular segmentation of the poetic texts.10 But such a clear-cut distinction in ‘regular’ Hebrew poetry worked but he chose for whatever reason . . . to produce a form of poetry in which the poetic devices would be distributed less regularly than, say, in Prov 2” (1990: 270). 8. The Hebrew Bible is the corpus of texts also referred to as the Jewish Tanakh or the Christian Old Testament (according to the Protestant Canon). This corpus also includes small portions written in Aramaic, but all the texts discussed in this book are in Hebrew. 9. Kugel has challenged the use of the terms “prose” and “poetry” as foreign to the world of the Bible (1981: 69), but most biblical scholars continue to use them, including Kugel (1999: 25). 10. For the terminology of verse and prose as modes of structure, see Brogan 1993g: 1346–47. [ 6 ] Introductory Matters
which style and structure converge is not always the case. We have already seen that the line structure of Psalm 23 is not readily apparent to modern scholars, although the style is aptly described as “poetic.” The verbal artistry of biblical prose narrative also uses plentiful repetition and “parallelism,” challenging notions that parallelism is primarily or essentially an aspect of poetic structure.11 The prophetic books may switch between prose and poetry, and some passages almost seem to straddle the categories of poetry and prose in what is sometimes called “elevated prose.”12 For these reasons, scholars are divided on how they understand the relationship between prose and poetry in the Bible.13 Some view biblical poetry as an elevated style that is identifiable by the concentration of certain poetic features, most of which can also be found more sparsely in prose, such as parallelism and imagery and sound-play. From this perspective, biblical prose and poetry are viewed as the ends of a continuum. Texts that share features of both prose and poetry are considered to be somewhere in the middle.14 The major problem with this perspective is that it obscures the important role of the line in biblical poetry. The line is not the same as a poetic feature; it is a structural unit—a distinguishing framework. Thus, other scholars argue that the difference between biblical prose and poetry is really a distinction (widely attested across languages) between prose and verse, which is, by definition, verbal composition in lines.15 But this does not solve the problems of how to know when a text is poetry or how to lineate a text that we know to be poetry (e.g., a psalm). This book affirms the centrality of the line in biblical poetry.16 Features alone cannot account for the difference between biblical prose and poetry, 11. See, e.g., Kugel’s discussions, 1981: 59–95. 12. On the issues of prose and poetry and elevated prose in the prophets, see Cook 2012: 307. 13. These issues are not unique to biblical literature; see Brogan 1993d, 1993g; Owen 2012; and Steele 2012. 14. Thus Kugel 1981: 85; cf. Berlin 1996: 302. Some scholars propose categories in the middle, such as Christensen’s “narrative poetry” (1985; for a list of studies by Kampen scholars on “narrative poetry,” see de Hoop 2000a: 51n10); cf. Freedman 1987. Berlin draws upon Jakobson’s idea of the “poetic function” to support this continuum (1985: 7–17; 1996: 302). Jakobson’s poetic function, as it relates to biblical prose and poetry, is discussed further in section 8.2. 15. Thus O’Connor 1997; and especially Cloete 1988. For a more detailed overview of scholarship on this issue, see Kuntz 1998: 32–33, 55–57; and 1999: 45. 16. Other scholars who place the poetic line central to their theory and interpretation of biblical poetry include O’Connor 1997; and Dobbs-Allsopp 2015. Dobbs-Allsopp begins On Biblical Poetry with an essay on the poetic line that provides evidence for the existence and importance of the line in biblical Hebrew verse, and elucidates the nature and character of this line. He writes, “Surprisingly . . . the question of the biblical Hebrew poetic line . . . though everywhere assumed, has nowhere been substantially scrutinized (aside, perhaps from the issue of syntax and how syntax interfaces with and is staged by the line)” (8–9). The parenthetical comment refers to O’Connor 1997.
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 7 ]
because the difference is a matter of how poetry is structured, not simply of style. However, if we pursue “verse structure” as if it could be reduced to linguistic analysis, or descriptive or prescriptive rules isolated from the experience of biblical poetry, the endeavor will fail as a poetic or literary one.17 How the poetic line emerges as a structural unit of patterned or organized language is integrally related to poetic rhythm and various effects, which are subjectively experienced phenomena.18 The poetic line creates a unique potential for various effects, a potential that the structure of prose does not share, even prose that is artfully arranged language.19 This potential for effects—which is exploited by the ancient artists—is what legitimizes the use of the word “poetry” in spite of the absence of any Biblical Hebrew equivalent term.20 Poetry communicates differently—it does something different from prose—because it is made up of lines of patterned, organized language. I argue in this book that the nature and effects of biblical poetry are related to the reader or listener’s mental organization of lines as lines. The differences and commonalities of biblical prose and poetry must be understood in relation to these differences of cognitive processing, not simply in relation to prose and poetry’s distinct or common features. Biblical poetry and prose are undeniably interconnected, growing out of the same cultural and
As evidence for the line in biblical poetry, Dobbs-Allsopp cites manuscript evidence (29–42), the “verse line” in oral poetry (42–56), the line from the other’s perspective (i.e., the history of reception of biblical poetry; 57–67), and internal evidence for the line (67–90). In addition to Dobbs-Allsopp’s evidence is the syntactic evidence for a structural distinction between biblical prose and poetry that is related to the line and is not simply a matter of style: the different conditions for verbal ellipsis/gapping in poetry and prose (C. L. Miller 2007a: 177); the ways prose and poetry differ with respect to the external syntax of the vocative (2010b), the less fixed nature of word order in biblical poetry in comparison with prose (Cook 2008: 261), and the different use of verb forms in poetry compared with prose, such as the relative infrequence of the wayyiqtol in poetry (262; 2012: 298–304). 17. Cf. Geller, in his critique of O’Connor 1997: “Parallelism as a device is entirely the result of the intersection of effects and perceptions. Inability to deal with the latter must result in a dissolution of parallelism into the elements that produce those effects” (1982: 70). For a more detailed critique of O’Connor’s syntactic approach, see section 2.6. 18. Likewise, when Alter asks “what it is in general that enables us to distinguish poetic from nonpoetic discourse,” he turns to a perceptual explanation of parallelism (2011: 6), citing Barbara Herrnstein Smith’s well-known study of poetic closure: “As soon as we perceive that a verbal sequence has a sustained rhythm, that it is formally structured according to a continuously operating principle of organization, we know that we are in the presence of poetry and we respond to it accordingly . . . , expecting certain effects from it and not others, granting certain conventions to it and not others” (1968: 23). 19. As Brogan notes, prose should not be confused with everyday speech (1993g: 1349). Prose is itself highly organized language, with its own potential for effects. 20. For a different perspective on the use of the word “poetry” for biblical texts, in relation to style, see Kugel 1981: 69; and 1999: 25. [ 8 ] Introductory Matters
language tradition. These interrelationships must be teased out, but the task of understanding their interconnectedness must follow the prior task of understanding the biblical Hebrew poetic line.
1.2. METRICAL STUDIES AND THEIR DECLINE
For centuries extending well before the modern era, scholars attempting to understand biblical poetry better have attempted to understand its supposed meter.21 This preoccupation with meter is understandable, because the other known traditions of poetry in these cultural contexts were metrical. Lines of verse implied measured segments of text, measured according to particular aspects of patterned sounds that could be counted.22 In the twentieth century the predominant theories of biblical meter were accentual and syllabic. In the heyday of metrical studies, it was not uncommon for the biblical texts to be emended metri causa—to fit a particular theory of meter. By the end of the century, scholars had become much less confident in their metrical proposals. The basic problem with these theories is that they cannot be consistently applied to biblical poems. Accentual and syllabic patterns occur, but they are typically local patterns, lacking the regularity or predictability of a metrical versification system.23 The view that biblical poetry is not metrical, which had proponents before the modern era, is now common.24 Through the rise of comparative literature, scholars have become aware of nonmetrical indigenous versification systems in widespread areas of the world.25 Scholars no longer feel compelled to fit
21. Proposed systems of meter include the counting of stresses, words, syllables, consonants, vocables, phonemes, and morae, as well as combinations of these. On premodern scholarship of meter and biblical poetry, see Kugel 1981: 96–273; and Berlin 1991. For a summary of two centuries of biblical poetry metrical scholarship, see McConnell 2008. For a survey of metrical approaches, see Kuntz 1998: 59–60; and 1999: 52–55. More recent proponents of biblical poetic meter include Grol 2000; Seybold 2003; Hobbins 2007; DeCaen 2009; and Park 2017. For a cognitive approach to biblical poetry as an accentual versification system, see Waller 2015. 22. The deficiency of this view is recognized in broader literary studies (Brogan 1993g: 1348), but a narrower emphasis on verse involving “measure” has found its way back into the more recent 4th edition of The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics (Steele 2012: 1507). 23. For extended critiques of proposed metrical systems, see de Moor 1978; Pardee 1981; Longman 1982; and Vance 2001. 24. See Petersen and Richards 1992: 37–47; Giese 1994; Gillingham 1994: 68; and Berlin 1996: 308. Dobbs-Allsopp claims that “a consensus about the absence of meter in biblical verse now exists” (2015: 99). On the medieval views of meter and biblical poetry, see Berlin 1991: 35–44; and Kugel 1981: 181–200. On the so-called qinah meter, see section 7.2. 25. On nonmetrical verse traditions of the world, see ch. 3, n4.
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 9 ]
biblical poetry into a metrical mold, and discussions of meter have largely been replaced by descriptions of rhythm.26 Proponents of metrical approaches, however, may well respond that the absence of a metrical theory that fits the data is not an airtight argument. There is always the possibility that we have just not found the correct solution yet. If biblical poetry is a “free-rhythm” versification system, what makes a line a line in an unlineated text? Replacing “metrical” with “rhythmic” leaves us in a conceptual vacuum for how biblical poetry in lines can possibly work. “Rhythmic” says nothing specific: all language, whether narrative or poetry, or even everyday speech, can be perceived as “rhythmic.” In reality, I will argue, many of the assumptions and baggage of metrical approaches are still in place in free-rhythm biblical poetry descriptions. If biblical poetry is truly a free- rhythm system, we need a new conceptual model that is consistent with the significant differences between the phenomena of meter and rhythm. This book presents such a conceptual model.
1.3. PARALLELISM AND BIBLICAL POETRY
For two and a half centuries of modern scholarship, the very idea of biblical poetry has been intertwined with the concept of parallelism. The ongoing question of the relationship of parallelism to biblical poetry, and the lack of consensus on what parallelism is, must be understood in this context. The concept of parallelism was formulated by Robert Lowth, professor of poetry at Oxford, through a series of lectures on the poetry of the Old Testament delivered between 1741 and 1751.27 For Lowth, ancient Hebrew poetry was undoubtedly metrical, but he believed the metrical system was irrecoverable (1835: 32–33).28 As evidence for this meter, in Lecture III he cites “a certain conformation of the sentences” in most biblical texts regarded as poetry, which preserves “an agreeable and measured cadence” (34). In Lecture XIX, Lowth describes this unique characteristic of the ancient Hebrew poetry in more detail: “The poetical conformation of the sentences, which has been so often alluded to as characteristic of the Hebrew poetry, consists chiefly in a certain equality, resemblance, or parallelism, between the members of each period; so that in two lines, (or members of the same period), things
26. E.g., Berlin 1996: 308–9; and Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 95–177. 27. As Kugel demonstrates, Lowth was not working in a vacuum. “By Lowth’s time all the elements of the puzzle he was to deal with had been laid out. His task was primarily that of arrangement and synthesis—but this was no small matter” (1981: 273). For a recent discussion of Lowth’s ideas of parallelism, see Dobbs-Allsopp 2021. 28. Cf. 1835: 191, where Lowth communicates his distrust of the Masoretes’ understanding of the language and texts. [ 10 ] Introductory Matters
for the most part shall answer to things, and words to words, as if fitted to each other by a kind of rule or measure” (204–5). (One might infer from this statement that Lowth limits parallelism to pairs of lines, but he uses “parallelism” for groups of three and larger as well.)29 At this point, Lowth goes beyond his earlier expression of this conformation as evidence for verse, positing that parallelism may actually be part of the Hebrew metrical versification system: “In this peculiar conformation, or parallelism, of the sentences, I apprehend a considerable part of the Hebrew metre to consist; though it is not improbable that some regard was also paid to the numbers and feet. But of this particular we have at present so little information, that it is utterly impossible to determine, whether it was modulated by the ear alone, or according to any settled or definite rules of prosody” (214). Whatever parallelism’s relationship to meter, Lowth argued, it was an indication of biblical poetry. Since parallelism was found not just in the presumed poetic texts (Psalms, Proverbs, Job), but also in prophetic texts, like Isaiah, Lowth extended the concept of biblical poetry to include most of the Prophets too, as well as other books or portions with parallelism. Through Lowth’s lectures and especially his articulation of parallelism (which was a very small portion of his lectures), the modern idea of biblical poetry was born.30 Since Lowth, parallelism has typically been the starting place and primary framework for understanding biblical poetry. However, beginning with Lowth’s works, one is hard pressed to find a definition or description of parallelism that does justice to the actual biblical texts. Lowth recognizes great variety in parallelism: “This parallelism has much variety and many gradations; it is sometimes more accurate and manifest, sometimes more vague and obscure” (1835: 205). His later formulation of parallelism, like his lectures, reveals a fairly broad view of the variety of correspondences occurring in parallelism: “The correspondence of one Verse, or Line, with another, I call Parallelism. When a proposition is delivered, and a second is subjoined to it, or drawn under it, equivalent, or contrasted with it, in Sense; or similar to it in the form of Grammatical Construction; these I call Parallel Lines; and the words or phrases answering one to another in the corresponding Lines Parallel Terms.” Lowth acknowledges that correspondences between lines involve grammar, meaning, and words, but unfortunately, he resorts to a classification system that reduces parallelism “to three sorts: parallels synonymous, parallels antithetic, and parallels synthetic” (1825: 14). These categories imply that parallelism is primarily about
29. For examples, see Lowth 1825: 17–24. 30. As Dobbs-Allsopp says, “Biblical Hebrew poetry, in many respects, is a construction of Lowth, his lectures, and their reception over the last two and a half centuries” (2015: 4).
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 11 ]
semantic relationships, and even worse, that semantic relationships between two lines can be reduced to basic similarity or opposition, with a catch-all category for everything else.31 Biblical scholars since Lowth have agreed that Lowth’s threefold classification of parallelism is inadequate and misleading, and many have continued to critique or modify the idea of parallelism.32 Some adjust the concept to make it better encompass all lines of biblical poetry; others narrow the concept, limiting it to only certain line relationships.33 The multifaceted correspondences of parallelism have been studied in relation to many aspects of language, such as syntax (both surface structure and deep structure), semantics, phonology,
31. Why does Lowth settle for this semantic classification of parallelism, even though it forces him to introduce the meaningless category of “synthetic parallelism” to describe a great number of biblical lines? This categorization is set in the context of Lowth’s view of the origin of ancient Hebrew poetry in the sacred music of public worship (1835: 200). For Lowth, the “poetical and artificial conformation of the sentences” characteristic of Hebrew poetry is rooted in responsive liturgical chanting, in which the second line “answers to” the first. It is in this context that Lowth’s threefold categorization of parallelism makes sense. How does the second line “answer to” the first? Most commonly, by repetition, “in different, but equivalent terms” (synonymous parallelism). This explanation accounts for Lowth’s prioritization of semantic aspects of parallelism in classification, even though he clearly had a more nuanced view of how the poetic language fits together. Lowth’s view of the origin of biblical poetry provided him a compelling reason for why biblical poetry would so often say “the same thing” twice, which is perhaps the most puzzling aspect of biblical poetry to those outside the tradition. On antiphony in the ancient Near East and in the synagogue, see Kugel 1981: 116–19. The problem is not only that Lowth’s hypothetical origin of “parallelism” lacks historical or comparative evidence; it also does not account for the biblical poetic texts in their current form. 32. Critiques of Lowth’s threefold classification include the problem of the catch-all category of synthetic parallelism (Gray 1915: 49–52), the inadequacy of merely two or three types of relationships between all sets of parallel lines (Kugel 1981: 57–58), and confusion about structural and non-structural features of parallelism in descriptions of biblical poetry (O’Connor 1997: 89). For a brief history of biblical parallelism, see LeMon and Strawn 2008: 503–12. 33. A number of scholars have replaced Lowth’s original three categories with more extensive typologies (see especially Berlin 1985; Alonso Schökel 1988; Watson 2005). O’Connor narrows the definition of parallelism to lines with matching syntax (1993: 877; 1997). Greenstein too distinguishes syntactic parallel patterning from semantic context, but he broadens the scope of syntactic parallelism by including deep syntactic structure (1983: 45–46). Hrushovski’s quite broad definition of parallelism, what he calls “the foremost principle dominating biblical poetry” (2007: 598), is built upon by Alter (2011: 7–8). “Usually two versets (sometimes three or even four) are parallel to each other in one or several aspects. The parallelism may be either complete or partial; either of the verset as a whole or of each word in it; of words in the same order or reversed. It may be a parallelism of semantic, syntactic, prosodic, morphological, or sound elements, or of a combination of such elements. . . . The parts of the parallelism may be equal or unequal in their size or form; they may be related to each other in a variety of ways: synonymous, antithetic, hierarchic, belonging to a category of some kind, etc. The principles of the parallelism used may change from verse to verse” (Hrushovski 2007: 598–99). [ 12 ] Introductory Matters
word pairs, and accentual rhythm.34 These studies have revealed much about the complexity of interrelated lines in biblical poetry, but they have not resulted in a consensus on what exactly biblical parallelism is or how it relates to biblical poetry. Some scholars view parallelism as line structural; others view it as an aspect of style, extending it to prose.35 Broader scholarship of parallelism outside biblical studies, which has drawn from Lowth’s formulation of parallelism, has circled back into biblical studies and further muddied the waters. According to linguist and literary theorist Roman Jakobson, parallelism can be described as “canonic” (line structural) in certain poetry traditions, and parallelism can also be equated with the essence of all poetry and the poetic function of language (Jakobson 1987: 71, 82–83).36 How can we reconcile this broad view of parallelism in all poetry with Lowth’s attempt to understand something distinct about biblical poetry? At this point, attempting to formulate a consensus definition of parallelism runs the risk of reducing the concept to the lowest common denominator of parallelism ideas, depleting it of its potential to say anything meaningful about biblical poetry. Saying that parallelism has problems is nothing new. This book is not concerned with salvaging parallelism or supplementing parallelism to make 34. On parallelism as a primarily syntactic phenomenon, see especially O’Connor 1997: 391–400; as well as the discussion in Greenstein (1983: 45n14). Greenstein regards three features of parallelism as primary: relative balance of line lengths, repetition of deep or surface syntactic structure, and the distribution of word-pairs between lines of a couplet (2012: 602). On parallelism as a syntactic and semantic phenomenon, see Berlin 1996: “Parallelism may be defined as the repetition of similar or related semantic content or grammatical structure in adjacent lines or verses” (304). Her 1985 study includes the study of sound pairs as the phonologic aspect of biblical parallelism (103–25) and word-pairs as the lexical aspect (65–80). On parallelism as a semantic-syntactic-accentual phenomenon, see Alter (2011: 7–8; building upon Hrushovski 2007: 598–99). Outside the field of biblical studies, see J. J. Fox (1977: 70) on Jakobson’s syntactic-semantic view of “grammatical parallelism.” See also Fabb 1997: “Parallelism is a ‘sameness’ between two sections of a text, and can be structural or semantic” (137); but Fabb too discusses specific kinds of phonological parallelism (148–52). 35. Lowth viewed parallelism as indicative of the original (but now irrecoverable) meter of biblical poetry (1835: 34). Thus, for Lowth, parallelism was connected to the line structure of biblical poetry but was not its organizing principle. Subsequent scholars took this idea a step further, viewing parallelism essentially as a meter or organizing principle of line structure (see the historical discussions in LeMon and Strawn 2008; Parunak 1978: 4–8; and O’Connor 1997: 51). O’Connor recognizes the problem of accounting for biblical poetry’s line structure based on parallelism, which must be so broadly formulated that it cannot account for the structure of poetic versification (1997: 4–5, 50–51). He seeks to resolve this problem through a syntactic approach to biblical verse structure, essentially proposing a syntactic “meter.” Holmstedt 2019 and Krohn 2021 revise and extend O’Connor’s approach. Other scholars have sought to resolve these problems by approaching parallelism as stylistic rather than structural (Kugel 1981; Berlin 1985). 36. On parallelism in comparative literature, see J. J. Fox 1977, 2014; Fabb 2015: 140– 70; and Frog and Tarkka 2017.
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 13 ]
the concept work. This book is about disentangling biblical poetry from parallelism.
1.4. CONFORMATION, NOT PARALLELISM
Lowth described a truly remarkable and distinguishing characteristic of biblical poetry: that short divisions (i.e., clauses or phrases) of sentences are arranged or fit together in various ways, and this fitting together creates cadences or rhythm. Biblical Hebrew poetry is distinct from traditions like classical Greek and Latin in that its lines fit together in (relatively) contained twos, or threes, or larger groups, rather than spilling over the ends of metrically patterned lines (which creates rhythm in a different way) (1835: 34–35). This basic and intriguing observation—that biblical poetry is built from lines that fit together, unlike poetries with lines that fit to a meter—gets obscured in Lowth’s reasoning that biblical poetry must be metrical. For Lowth, “agreeable and measured cadences,” evidence of versification, were easiest to observe in parallelistic passages (1835: 34). (This is the same reason current scholarship struggles to lineate Psalm 23 based on parallelism and regular rhythms.) It is not surprising, then, that for Lowth, parallelism was the primary identifying feature of biblical poetry, and for many after him, parallelism became the hallmark of biblical poetry. The idea that the paradigmatic line-relationship in biblical poetry is that of correspondence, equivalence, and parallelism is consistent with how lines are heard in metrical poetry: in relation to regular sound patterns. Metrical expectations have fed into the idea of parallelism. Subsequently, the language of “parallelism” further predisposes us to a certain rigid way of looking at biblical poetry—as, quite simply, corresponding “parallel” lines. But the lines and line-relationships of biblical poetry are much more complex than this, as biblical scholarship continually attests. A correspondence model for line relationships is simply not adequate.37 We need a different lens through which to view line-relationships, one that allows us to see (or more accurately, hear) all kinds of shapes and patterns of language, as well as how these shapes and patterns are integrated into lines. Lowth’s earliest description of biblical Hebrew lines fitting together is translated from the Latin into English as “conformation.”38 In English, 37. Linguistic models based on binary opposition perpetuate this problem; see section 8.2. 38. “Conformation (of the sentences)” is consistently used by the translator for both conformatio (34, 214) and compositio (204, 214) in the Lectures (1835). In Lecture XIX (214), Lowth clarifies what he means by conformatio with the term “parallelism.” By the time of Lowth’s classic English formulation of parallelism in the Introduction to Isaiah (1825), “conformation” had given way completely to language of correspondence and parallelism. [ 14 ] Introductory Matters
“conformation” refers not simply to correspondence, but to “formation of something by appropriate arrangement of parts or elements: an assembling into a whole” (MW). If we are to understand the nature of biblical poetry, we must account for its line structure: both the individual line and the relationships between lines. But rather than start with meter (or regular rhythms), or the correspondences between segments of text conceptualized as “parallelism,” we must take a few steps back to this more basic idea of “conformation.” Biblical poetry is built from lines that fit to each other, not lines that fit to a meter. The question is, how do these free-rhythm lines fit together? And in the absence of a meter, how is it that biblical poetic lines can be heard at all?
1.5. A WAY FORWARD THROUGH COGNITIVE POETICS
The question of how biblical poetic lines can be heard is a question of how lines can be perceived or mentally organized as structural-rhythmic units by the listener or reader. This is a problem well suited to the field of cognitive poetics.39 39. Cf. Berlin on the need for cognitive studies to address the issue of perceptibility of parallelism (1985: 130–31). For biblical studies articles that approach issues of versification or parallelism from cognitive perspectives, see Greenstein 1974, 1977, 1983, 2008; Zevit 1990, 1992 (as well as Landy’s 1992 response to Zevit 1990); and Waller 2015. Zevit asks, regarding modern literary analyses of biblical poetic texts, “how we know that what the contemporary biblical scholar discovers was apparent to the ancient Israelite, particularly the ancient Israelite who listened to this poetry” (1992: 200). He turns to cognitive disciplines to address this question. Zevit uses cognitive psychology and psycholinguistics to argue against the perceptibility of certain alleged parallelisms discussed by Jakobson, especially phonological ones (1990), and to account for the memorability of lines of the psalms (1992). Though Zevit does not reject the framework of parallelism as I do in this book, my cognitive approach shares with his studies two important aspects: the view that proposed poetic structures must be potentially perceptible and thus cognitively plausible, and consideration of line lengths in relation to the capacity of short-term memory. Greenstein draws from psycholinguistic studies on sentence processing to argue for particular lineations and syntactic analyses, as well as specific functions and effects of parallelism (1974, 1977, 1983, 2008). Although I share with Greenstein a commitment to questions of audience perception and poetic effects (see esp. 1983: 42–43), our work differs in critical ways. Greenstein accepts the construct of parallelism (delimited according to three primary features: first and foremost, relative balance, and frequently, matching syntax and distributed word pairs), and views it as “the most salient indicator” of biblical poetry (2014: 80–81; cf. 2012: 602). For Greenstein, the semantic or content association between lines flows out of the formal components of parallelism, specifically syntax, including both surface and deep structure (1983: 64; 2012: 602). According to my cognitive approach, Greenstein’s three primary features of parallelism represent not a unified phenomenon (a convention that we can call “parallelism”) but rather three different aspects of biblical verse that are cognitively distinct phenomena in the mental organization of poetic structure and the experience of poetic effects. In my view, semantic connections between lines do not simply flow from syntactic
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 15 ]
Cognitive poetics is a diverse field of study that approaches literature through the various disciplines that investigate human cognition.40 “Human cognition” does not refer solely to conceptual processes and reasoning; “conceptual reasoning itself can be seen to be motivated and affected by processes and phenomena that include bodily sensations, emotions, feelings, memory, attention, imagery, metaphor, and analogous thinking” (Freeman 2014: 313). The primary theoretical framework for this book is drawn from decades of work by Reuven Tsur. In Tsur’s words, cognitive poetics, as he practices it, “offers cognitive theories that systematically account for the relationship between the structure of literary texts and their perceived effects” (2008: 1).41 That is, he explores how cognitive processing constrains and shapes the language and forms of literary texts, as well as how it constrains and shapes how readers respond to them. One of Tsur’s major contributions to versification study is what he calls “the Perception-Oriented Theory of Meter” (2008: 158). In the vast majority of lines of English accentual-syllabic meter, from Chaucer to Yeats, the stress pattern of the actual words in a line deviates from the abstract metrical pattern (typically iambic pentameter). How can we account for so many deviant lines in this metrical system? Other theories focus on rules for the metricality of a verse line; Tsur’s theory shifts the focus to rhythmicality, a perceptual phenomenon. The reader of these lines of poetry is required to solve the perceptual problem presented by the deviation of the actual pattern from the metrical pattern. The reader’s ability or willingness to perform an iambic pentameter line rhythmically—in a way that preserves the rhythms of language without losing the line’s metrical patterning—is the solution. Although biblical poetry is not metrical, and thus the mental process of “hearing” the lines of biblical poetry differs from the process of “performing” the lines of English poetry, I am following in Tsur’s footsteps and starting with a perceptual structure or poetic structure, but semantics potentially contributes to the perceptual organization of lines (i.e., poetic structure). Furthermore, I do not find deep-structure approaches to syntax suitable for accounting for poetic structures or effects. For a psycholinguistic approach to “word pairs” as word associations, see Berlin 1985: 65–72. Waller 2015 presents a cognitive approach to biblical poetry as an accentual versification system, based upon Tsur’s work in metrical systems; in contrast, I present a cognitive approach to biblical poetry as a free-rhythm versification system, based on Tsur’s work more broadly. 40. In a narrow sense, “poetics” refers to the study of poetry, but in a more general sense, it refers to the study of all the arts (Freeman 2014: 313). For overviews of the field of cognitive poetics, see Gavins and Steen 2003; Richardson 2004; Vandaele and Brône 2009; and Freeman 2009; 2014. “Cognitive” is not just conceptual but also emotive and sensuous (Freeman 2014: 325). 41. For Tsur, “structure” does not imply a form-content dichotomy (2008: 638). “Structure” includes “both content and form so far as they are organized for aesthetic purposes” (Wellek and Warren 1956: 129). On the form-content dichotomy and cognitive studies, see further Freeman 2020: 29–31. [ 16 ] Introductory Matters
orientation rather than a rule-based approach. The question of how biblical poetic lines can be heard is also a kind of perceptual problem: “hearing” the biblical lines requires the successful mental organization of poetic lines as structural-rhythmic units in relation to each other. A basic premise of this book is that the ancient Hebrew verse system, like other verse systems, tends to take forms that are natural fits to the capacities and constraints of the human brain.42 Tsur identifies two cognitive constraints that are especially relevant for versification in metrical systems. These constraints are also relevant to line perception in free-rhythm biblical poetry. The first cognitive constraint is the limitations and capacities of short-term memory, which Tsur calls the immediate memory constraint. This constraint does not simply posit that poetic lines cannot exceed a particular length; rather, it accounts for a narrower phenomenon: where potential line structure exploits elements of linguistic surface structure that must be stored in short-term memory until the line structure is mentally resolved, upper line lengths in metrical poetry, according to Tsur, tend to be about ten syllables— or there is an obligatory caesura (2008: 135, 172).43 Although biblical poetry is not metrical, biblical line structure does exploit elements of linguistic surface structure that must be stored in immediate memory. Proposals for the relevance of particular linguistic elements to the structure of biblical poetic lines must be plausible within this cognitive constraint. The second of Tsur’s cognitive constraints on versification is the conditions that maximize the mind’s tendency to perceive a stimulus pattern as an integrated whole (2002: 78). These are the Gestalt principles of perception, which have been applied not just to visual and aural perception by psychologists, but also to perception of verbal art, visual art, and music by scholars in these fields (Arnheim 1974; Meyer 1956; Smith 1968; and Tsur 2008). I argue in this book that the phenomenon of the free-rhythm biblical poetic line is best accounted for by viewing poetic lines in part-whole relationships of lines and line-groupings. The biblical poetic line lacks end-markers and a template for internal patterning (i.e., meter); the line must emerge in relation to other lines, and it does so typically in two-or three-line but sometimes larger groupings (with larger context also key to patterning). From a perceptual perspective, biblical poetic lines do not end in serial fashion. Rather, segments of texts emerge in relation to each other: parts come together to form wholes, and wholes break into parts. The line must be heard as a segregated perceptual unit if it is to be perceived as a rhythmic and structural unit. But the biblical 42. See Tsur 2010 and 2017, building upon D’Andrade 1981. 43. For Tsur, the perception of poetic rhythm (in the context of metrical poetries) is dependent upon the preservation of the phonetic structure of the entire line until the metricality/rhythmicity of the line is mentally resolved. The perception of poetic rhythm in nonmetrical poetries is not necessarily dependent upon the preservation of the phonetic structure of the entire line in this way; see section 7.3.
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 17 ]
line must also be organized as a “part” of an integrated “whole” line-grouping if it is to be perceived as a line at all. The Gestalt principles account for various ways that shapes emerge from all aspects of language, and how these shapes come to emerge as lines and line-groupings in part-whole relationships. These same principles are relevant not just for lines and line-groupings, but also for the emergence of stanzas, and for biblical poetry’s potential for poetic effects experienced by the listener/reader. In this book, the biblical poetic line is accounted for as a perceivable unit of structure that potentially emerges within the constraints of immediate memory and part-whole processing during the mental performance experience—that is, the mental organization of stimuli from the text, on the part of either the reader or the listener (Tsur 2008: 30). By “potentially emerges,” I mean that the poetic line has a likelihood—not a certainty—of emerging during the hearing or reading of a poem. The biblical poetic line is not a given, an objective reality handed to a reader on a page. Hearing the biblical poetic line is an aesthetic experience that involves the active cooperation of the reader or listener in creating organized wholes of the textual stimuli through cognitive strategies (29). While the reader, and to some degree the listener (who is more limited by a specific performance), can try out different mental organizations of the textual stimuli to hear line structure in different ways, not just any organization is possible. There are limitations due not simply to cognitive processing constraints (immediate memory and Gestalt principles) but also to the combinational potential of the elements of the text (165). Furthermore, the perceptions of the reader or listener are shaped by expectations, including reader or listener understanding of the culture-specific conventions of the poetry (cf. Meyer 1956: 85). (E.g., a reader or listener who expects chiasm as a poetic device is more likely to perceive it as structurally relevant than the reader or listener who is unfamiliar with it. Or a reader who expects a metrical template/pattern just might hear one in Psalm 23; see section 2.4.) In verbal art, some patterns become conventional. Yet the biblical poetic line itself is much more than a set of learned structural patterns: it emerges contextually, from a complex array of linguistic stimuli. The shapes and patterns that emerge as biblical lines and line-groupings must be actively organized by the reader or listener. Line-perception is constrained by cognitive processing, limited by the combinational potential of the textual elements of language, shaped by the expectations of the reader or listener, and dependent upon the reader or listener’s cooperation in creating organized and patterned wholes. This book adheres to Tsur’s pioneering approach to cognitive poetics in the following key ways: It draws upon his work in the universal aspects of cognition that constrain the poetic line, but it is driven by the specific problems of biblical poetry. It seeks to illuminate biblical poems, not simply to illustrate theories. It investigates broadly applicable cognitive principles but in the [ 18 ] Introductory Matters
context of particular texts. In Tsur’s words, the “generalizations [of cognitive poetics] should be wide enough to be applicable to a great variety of works of art, while at the same time, they should provide means to make meaningful distinctions between, or within, specific works of literature” (2008: 2). In this vein, this book is written for a threefold audience: students and scholars who desire to better “hear” biblical Hebrew poems, starting with the unique workings of the poetic line and its potential for effects; students and scholars of comparative literature who are looking for new ways to approach the old problems of parallelism or new possibilities for approaching the understudied free-rhythm versification systems of the world; and students and scholars of cognitive studies who are interested in the intersection of the universal constraints of human cognition with one particular poetry tradition. “What makes a line a line in biblical poetry?” is the basic problem and driving inquiry of this book. The end goal, though, is not the “correct” layout of ancient poems on the modern page so that we can perform the task of interpretation on them. “Lineation” of biblical poems, rather, is primarily about hearing and mentally organizing a string of words as a poetic line and organizing lines in relation to each other, not properly formatting them. This mental process of line organization is integrally related to rhythm and poetic effects and thus is at the heart of reading and experiencing biblical poetry. As we will discover, lineation is not incidental to interpretation of biblical poems, nor is it a step along the way. Lines are integral to both the message and the experience of the message, and thus they are integral to the process of interpretation. Poetry communicates in the organized and patterned language of lines. Biblical poetry is like other poetries in this regard, yet it creates lines and poetic effects in ways quite different than most poetry we are used to. If our expectations for the biblical line arise from traditions foreign to biblical poetry, we miss out on some, or even much, of the artistry of biblical poems—and sometimes even the message. Indeed, as we will see, hearing the line emerge from the text according to the workings of its own tradition brings us into an unparalleled experience of reading biblical poetry.
U n pa r a l l e l i n g B i b l i c a l P o e t r y
[ 19 ]
CHAPTER 2
A Preliminary Description of Biblical Verse
When first describing biblical poetry to people who are accustomed to English poetry traditions, I often begin with what biblical poetry is not: it was not originally laid out in lines on the page, it is not metrical, and the ends of its lines rarely rhyme. For many people, it is hard to imagine what could be left that is poetic except for figurative language. This chapter is a basic introduction to biblical verse (the line- related aspects of biblical poetry), a preliminary description to fill in more context about what biblical verse-poetry is, while at the same time clarifying what it is not, especially in relation to English poetry traditions. The six aspects of biblical verse that I describe are not particularly controversial in biblical scholarship (with the exception of the sixth, which requires more extensive footnotes), but the implications of these aspects of biblical verse have not adequately impacted biblical poetry scholarship. These discussions of significant aspects of biblical verse lay the groundwork for a positive, non-parallelistic description of biblical verse and raise important issues that this book’s cognitive approach to biblical verse accounts for in subsequent chapters. Two embedded excurses provide more detailed discussions of the layouts of ancient manuscripts and the historical development of the Hebrew language with regard to pronunciation.
B
iblical verse-poetry arose in the broader literary context of the ancient Levant, as is evidenced by the very similar verse tradition of the thirteenth-century bce Ugaritic texts.1 As modern readers, we face the
1. Ugaritic is a Northwest Semitic language closely related to Hebrew. The city of Ugarit was destroyed c. 1200 bce; its cuneiform tablets date to before this time. On the Ugaritic texts, see O’Connor 1997: 24–29; and Pardee 2012. Unlike the Hebrew
Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0002
challenge of understanding the Bible’s verse system from outside of this ancient literary context. Our own contexts inevitably shape how we describe and view biblical poetry. For example, by calling biblical poetry nonmetrical, we imply that metrical poetry is the norm, which may be true in our contexts but was untrue in the ancient Near East.2 We might compare biblical poetry to modern English free verse, since both lack meter and rhyme. But this comparison breaks down because of differences in literary context: free verse may be “free” of meter, but this does not mean that the metrical tradition from which it arose is irrelevant to its rhythms and lines. We inevitably hear the rhythms of free verse in relation to the rhythms of metrical feet, and we understand that where and how lines break on the page (a convention passed on from the metrical tradition) is key to interpreting a modern free-verse poem.3 Ancient Hebrew poetry, however, did not derive from a metrical tradition. Only later, through the influences of other languages and versification systems, did Hebrew poetry become metrical.4 The free rhythms of biblical poetry have no metrical feet lurking in the background, and the concept of lines “breaking” is completely foreign. Versification systems are understood and lines are heard by audiences in the context of a literary tradition. For this reason, describing “what biblical poetry is” is much more complex than listing its descriptive features. This chapter explores the following aspects of biblical Hebrew verse: (1) Biblical poetry is an aural, and not a visual, phenomenon. (2) Biblical poetic lines are not cued by text-internal end-marking; rather, they emerge in patterned or organized relation to each other. (3) Biblical poetic lines emerge in small groupings, often of two or three lines, but sometimes larger. (4) Biblical poetry is free-rhythm poetry. (5) Lines of biblical poetry are of variable lengths, but they tend to fall within certain ranges. (6) Biblical poetic lines are structural units of poems built from all aspects of language.
Bible, Ugaritic literary texts are attested only in verse, not in literary prose. The data that we have for the ancient Hebrew tradition is far more extensive than for Ugaritic, which does not include vocalization or a tradition of phrasing and is from a much narrower window of time. Comparative analysis of Hebrew and Ugaritic texts—how biblical Hebrew verse is like Ugaritic verse as well as how it developed distinctly within its own tradition—is outside the scope of this book. 2. Like both biblical Hebrew poetry and Ugaritic poetry, the major literary traditions of the ancient Near East exhibit no recoverable metrical versification systems: Egyptian (Fathy 2012: 390–91; Lichtheim 1973: 11–12), Sumerian (Foster 2012: 1376), and Akkadian, including both Babylonian and Assyrian (Reiner and Farber 2012: 95–96). 3. On the lurking shadows of counted verse behind free verse, and the line breaks of free verse, see Vendler 2002: 673–74. 4. On the nonmetricality of biblical poetry in light of later Hebrew poetry, see O’Connor 1997: 632n2; and Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 102–3. For a fuller historical survey of Hebrew poetry, see Hrushovski 2007.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 21 ]
2.1. BIBLICAL POETRY IS AN AURAL, AND NOT A VISUAL, PHENOMENON
In much modern poetry, typography is an integral aspect of the art. The visual form does and should shape our performance and interpretation of the poem. Consider, for example, a poem in English that is art for both the eye and the ear, Gwendolyn Brooks’s “We Real Cool” (http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.rbc/ rbpe.33901800).5 The first four-word line of the poem ends with “We,” with each of the following three-word lines ending in “We” until the last diminished two-word line, “Die soon.” Vendler comments on the layout of the poem: “We get so used to seeing ‘We’ at the end of every line—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven—that when we ‘miss’ it at the end of line 8 we know that its absence is a sign of the imminent death of the group” (2002: 86). The typography is meant to influence our response to the poem, while at the same time influencing how we intonate it—whether with our voices or in our minds. Brooks’s poetic line is both a visual and an aural phenomenon. Biblical Hebrew poetry, however, is an aural but not a visual phenomenon. It is art for the ear but not for the eye.6 Biblical poems—from the earliest to the latest—arose in a culture of orality.7 Regardless of when they were written down, whether at the time of composition or later, biblical poems were voiced for their audiences. “Reading” of written texts in ancient Israel was a vocal practice (Hebrew קרא, “to call out, read”), not a silent one. Some of the biblical 5. This Library of Congress 1966 broadside image underscores the artistic potential of the poem’s visual layout, beyond even the standard book editions. 6. The possible exception is the biblical acrostics, poems structured with successive letters of the Hebrew alphabet at the beginnings of lines, line-groupings, or stanzas. Presumably, only a literate reader or listener would appreciate the device’s organizational function. Modern scholars tend to accept that if the acrostic was intended for literate readers, it was intended for the eye and not for the ear (an idea challenged by Gous 1999: 464–65). Rather than assume that acrostics were visual devices, we might better ask why the ordered alphabet sounds wouldn’t be perceptible in an oral society. Even if it were true that the acrostic device was a visual phenomenon, the poetic line in the acrostic poems is still a strongly aural phenomenon: the acrostic device does not mark shapes that go against the sense of the text. E.g., each poetic line in Pss 111 and 112 begins with a successive letter of the alphabet—the clearest formal marking of lineation in the Hebrew Bible—yet the poetic lines are still easy to discern aurally even without knowledge of the acrostic organization. This aurality is shared by the other biblical acrostics; on the acrostics of Lamentations, see section 7.2. On graphic (visual) puns in non-Hebrew ancient Near Eastern texts, see Greenstein 2016: 470–71. 7. “Orality” does not refer to the absence of writing, literacy, or texts; rather, it refers to the dominance of the spoken word, not the text, in communication (cf. Dobbs- Allsopp 2015: 233–34). A number of studies have been produced in biblical scholarship, both Hebrew Bible and New Testament, in the field of orality. For an overview of studies and issues, see Niditch 2010; and Wendland 2013. Influential Hebrew Bible studies include Niditch 1996; Carr 2005; Doan and Giles 2005; van der Toorn 2007; Giles and Doan 2009; Person 2010; and R. D. Miller 2011.Vayntrub (2019) highlights the role of represented orality in biblical texts as a literary device. [ 22 ] Introductory Matters
poems must have been spoken or chanted, though others were clearly sung (e.g., Exod 15, Judg 5, the Psalms).8 The various dimensions of orality in biblical poems are widely acknowledged, but sometimes the aurality is underappreciated. Because the visual character of many modern verse systems is so basic to our understanding of and approach to poems, we may unintentionally default to “seeing lines” in biblical poetry.9 When a biblical poem is lineated typographically on the page—as typically done in this book—we must remember that biblical poetry is art for the ear. Biblical poetry in Hebrew produces its effects as it is heard, not as it is seen. Lines and line breaks do not independently create the pauses and shapes of the poem, as they may in modern free-verse poetry, made possible by our culture of textuality. Formatted lines of biblical poetry are, rather, an attempt to point the reader to the shapes of the verbal art that emerge in the experience of hearing the poem. We must listen for these aural shapes and resist the urge to look for shapes with our eyes.
EXCURSUS A. ANCIENT AND MEDIEVAL LAYOUTS OF BIBLICAL POETRY The limited evidence indicates that ancient Hebrew poetic texts would have been written continuously, as prose texts were. The oldest extant document in Hebrew or Aramaic with graphic indication of poetic line structure is the Aramaic Carpentras funerary inscription from the fifth or fourth century bce, which contains one pair of verse lines (without intervening spacing) per each of the four graphic lines (Tov 2004: 173).
8. About the performances of ancient Hebrew poems, we know little. Some songs were accompanied by musical instruments (on which see Braun 2002: 8–32; and Kolyada 2009). It is possible that rhythmic or melodic modes or both were used to perform the songs, based on modern folk and art music traditions of the Middle East, North Africa, and South Asia (Nettl 2004, 2008). Braun suggests a parallel between the biblical psalm superscriptions and Arabic maqam- or Indian raga-designations, which include place names, numerals, and substantives (2002: 37). Presumably, the music and singing were closely related to the poetry. Of twentieth-century Middle Eastern music, Nettl writes, “The rhythm of nonmetric music is closely related to the prosody of Middle Eastern poetry. Though not governed by a cycle of beats, this music has specific rhythmic character, definable by successions of long and short notes and of stresses” (1986: 529–30). 9. As Alonso Schökel notes, biblical poetry was “meant for oral recitation. . . . Someone who is used to hearing poetry recited can later read to himself and hear in his imagination the effects of the sounds. . . . However, scholars of the OT generally have a habit of ‘seeing’ the biblical text, without listening to it. This means they are very subjective in their approach, and do not adapt themselves to the object they are studying. A new education and training is needed” (1988: 20).
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 23 ]
Although scribal notation of verse structure was present much earlier in the ancient Near East (e.g., vertical “verse dividers” in Akkadian and “verse points” in Egyptian), there is no evidence for it in Hebrew or Aramaic texts before this time. Likewise, the normal practice in thirteenth-century bce Ugaritic texts was continuous writing for poetic texts (Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 35–36). The oldest Hebrew manuscript evidence of biblical texts comes from the Dead Sea Scrolls. Tov lists thirty manuscripts from the Judean Desert (mostly from Qumran, dating from the second century bce to the first century ce) that display three different systems of special formatting of (mostly biblical) poetic texts (2004: 168). The first system is one or two poetic lines per manuscript line, with no spaces between them. The second is either two lines or two line-pairs per manuscript line, separated by spacing. The third is poetic lines or clusters of two to three words separated by spaces. In this last system, unlike the first two, the spaces occur at different places in the manuscript line (171–73). Notably, all of the texts represented in special formatting have also survived in running format, so we can conclude that special formatting of these particular texts was not required (169). These fragmentary manuscripts are portions of Exodus 15, Deuteronomy 32, various psalms (especially Ps 119), Job, Proverbs, Lamentations, Ben Sira, and 4QMessianic Apocalypse. The purpose of the special formats in these manuscripts and their relationship to the Masoretic tradition is a matter of discussion (S. Miller 2015; Tov 2015; K. Davis 2017). Though fragmentary, they are an important piece of evidence for how poetic structure may have been understood at a particular point in the transmission of the texts—as well as a lesson in the limitations and challenges of arranging biblical poetry stichographically (cf. Tov 2004: 166; contra Kugel 1981: 121, who views the layouts at Qumran as merely decorative). Many of these texts are easily arranged in units of line-pairs, but, in the second of the Qumran stichographic systems, according to Tov, “when three-stich units [what I call line-triples in this book] do not reflect a parallel structure, the three stichs are nevertheless presented in a two-stich system in one-and-a-half lines (thus Ps 81:6, 8, 11 in MasPsa). One notes that the stichographic arrangement of MasPsa II 22–24 (Ps 83:9–11) goes against the meaning of the stichs themselves” (2004: 172). That is, the third poetic line spills over onto the following manuscript line, sometimes resulting in a loss of balanced “parallelism” in the stichography. The Samaritan (Hebrew) tradition includes special layouts for Exodus 15, Leviticus 26:3–13, the poetical sections of Numbers 23–24, and Deuteronomy 32. It differs in certain ways from the rabbinic tradition, but based on comparison with the Qumran scrolls, it probably reflects Jewish writing traditions from the Second Temple period (Tov
[ 24 ] Introductory Matters
2004: 175–76). Like the Masoretic manuscripts, the Samaritan stichographic portions include both prose and poetry. For discussions of Greek and Latin manuscripts, see Tov (2004: 167), Tatu (2007), and Dobbs- Allsopp (2015: 32–33). In the medieval Masoretic (Hebrew) manuscripts, special layouts for particular biblical texts are standard, generally following the instructions in rabbinic literature specifying two different layouts. The first, “a half- brick over a half-brick and a whole brick over a whole brick,” produces a columnar stichography. The second, “a half-brick over a whole brick and a whole brick over a half-brick,” produces an interlocking pattern on the page. The first layout is specifically prescribed in the Talmud for the prose lists of Joshua 12:9–24 and Esther 9:6–9, while the second layout is prescribed for the Song of the Sea (Exod 15:1–18) and the Song of Deborah (Judg 5:2–30). By the later tractate Soferim, the Song of Moses (Deut 32) and David’s Song (2 Sam 22 =Ps 18) are also included as passages requiring the first of these special layouts (Kugel 1981: 121–23; Tov 2004: 174). Kugel observes that in actual practice during the Middle Ages, far more passages than those mentioned in the rabbinic writings received some kind of stichographic treatment. “It was common practice for Jewish scribes to use some sort of special spacing at least for the ‘poetic’ books of Psalms, Proverbs, and Job . . . as indeed Soferim seems to urge (13:1); moreover, isolated songs like the Song of Asaph (1 Chron. 16:8–36), and occasionally Lamentations (whose alphabetical construction called out for graphic representation of some sort), as well as lists such as Eccles. 3:2–8, 1 Sam. 6:17, Ezra 2:3 ff., 1 Chron. 24:7 ff., 25:9–14, etc. received special spacing” (1981: 123). Although a number of poetic songs are written with special layouts in the medieval manuscripts, the vast majority of poetry (such as in the Latter Prophets) is not, and the special layouts are not exclusively used for poetry. Furthermore, the arrangements of the text may run counter to the sense units of the text, such as the decorative “half-brick over whole brick” system (Tov 2004: 174). For example, the Leningrad Codex, the oldest complete manuscript of the Hebrew Bible (copied in 1009 ce), starts the special formatting of the Song of Deborah (Judg 5) with the prose introduction of 5:1. In 5:2, the words of the poetic song are spaced in a way that produces a pleasing visual symmetry with the words of the prose introduction (5:1), but does not follow the sense of the poetic lines (nor the major disjunctive of the cantillation marks). The Leningrad Codex arranges the three Poetical Books (Psalms, Proverbs, and Job) with “irregular and random spaces in every line” (according to Dotan, editor of the Biblia Hebraica Leningradensia, xix). Dotan does not reproduce the Leningrad Codex’s layout of these three books in the
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 25 ]
Biblia Hebraica Leningradensia because he views its only purpose as ornamental (cf. Kugel 1981: 120; and Tov 2004: 174 on medieval manuscript layouts). For a contrasting view of layouts in the earlier and finer (but now incomplete) Aleppo Codex (written about 930 ce), discussing the arrangement of Psalms 1–14, see Sanders (2002). Dobbs-Allsopp bases his enjambed lineation of Psalm 133 on the spacing in the Leningrad Codex, which goes against the Masoretic cantillation and against the spacing in the Aleppo Codex (2015: 330, 342, 506–7, 512, 518–19). He does not explain his rationale for using the Leningrad Codex’s format for lineation. The images here (figures 2.1–2.3) show Psalm 100 in the Leningrad and Aleppo Codices and a Qumran Psalms fragment (4Q84 =4QPsb). (Digital photos for the Leningrad Codex are linked via sefaria.org at www.tanach. us. The complete Aleppo Codex photos can be found at www.aleppocodex. org, and the Dead Sea Scrolls library at www.deadseascrolls.org.il. For additional images of ancient manuscripts, see Tov [2001: 379–405] and Dobbs-Allsopp [2015], the figures following p. 232.) The spaces in Ps 100 of the Leningrad Codex sometimes go against the sense of the text. The Aleppo Codex spaces follow the sense of the text, but they do not consistently mark line-units. The Qumran fragment has only three words of Ps 100 remaining in the left column, but it shows that the first three verbs of the psalm (the beginnings of the first three poetic lines) were lined up along the column edge. (Hebrew is read from right to left.) On the stichographic layouts of 4QPsb, see Ulrich (2010: 655–56, 676–81).
Figure 2.1. Leningrad Codex, Psalm 100
Credit: Photograph by Bruce and Kenneth Zuckerman, West Semitic Research, in collaboration with the Ancient Biblical Manuscript Center. Courtesy National Library of Russia.
[ 26 ] Introductory Matters
Figure 2.2. Aleppo Codex, Psalm 100
Credit: Ben-Zvi Institute, Jerusalem, digital photography by Ardon Bar-Hama.
Figure 2.3. Dead Sea Scrolls, Fragment 4Q84–4QPsb, plate 360, frag 1 Credit: Photo by Shai Halevi, courtesy of the Israel Antiquities Authority.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 27 ]
In summary, the Dead Sea Scrolls, though limited in usefulness for lineation study of particular texts because of their fragmentary nature, are potentially an important piece of evidence for the structure of biblical poetry. Where special layouts are present in the medieval Masoretic manuscripts, they do not necessarily correspond with poetry or poetic lineation and may even contradict it; line structure does not seem to be the purpose for the spacing. If biblical poetry is art for the ear, on a different level, the special medieval layouts of various texts are art for the eye. The medieval Masoretic cantillation tradition, however, is invaluable for understanding the verbal shapes of the text (on which see section 4.3).
Reading biblical poetry is inseparable from the hearing of biblical poetry. Hearing biblical poetry requires listening for verbal shapes of all kinds. We can consider some of these aural shapes in two short psalms, Psalm 23 and Psalm 100.
PSALM 23 נַ ְפ ִ ׁ֥שי3 ל־מי ְמנֻ ֣חֹות יְ נַ ֲה ֵ ֽלנִ י׃ ֖ ֵ ִּבנְ ֣אֹות ֶּ֭ד ֶׁשא יַ ְר ִּב ֵיצ֑נִ י ַע2 הו֥ה ֜ר ֹ ֗ ִעי ֣ל ֹא ֶא ְח ָ ֽסר׃ ָ ְ ִמזְ ֥מֹור ְל ָדִו֑ד י1 4 י־א ָ ּ֥תה ַ ירא ָ ֗רע ִּכ ֤ ָ א־א ִ֨ ֹ י־א ֵ ֙לְך ְּב ֵג֪יא ַצ ְל ָ֡מוֶ ת ל ֵ י־צ ֶדק ְל ַ ֣מ ַען ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ַּג֤ם ִ ּֽכ ֜ ֶ֗ ׁשֹובב ַיֽנְ ֵ ֥חנִ י ְב ַמ ְעּגְ ֵל ֑ ֵ ְי אׁשי ִ֗ ֹ ַּת ֲע ֬ר ְֹך ְל ָפנַ֙ י׀ ֻׁש ְל ָ֗חן ֶנ�֥גֶ ד צ ְֹר ָ ֑רי ִּד ַ ּׁ֖שנְ ָּת ַב ֶ ּׁ֥ש ֶמן ֜ר5 ִע ָּמ ִ ֑די ִׁש ְב ְטָך֥ ּו֜ ִמ ְׁש ַענְ ֶּ֗תָך ֵ ֣ה ָּמה יְ ַנ ֲֽח ֻ ֽמנִ י׃ יָמים׃ ֽ ִ א ֶרְך ֹ ֣ הוה ְל ֗ ָ ית־י ְ֜ ל־יְמי ַח ָּי֑י וְ ַׁש ְב ִ ּ֥תי ְּב ֵב ֣ ֵ ַ ֤אְך׀ ֤טֹוב וָ ֶ ֣ח ֶסד ִי ְ֭ר ְּדפּונִ י ָּכ6 ּכֹוסי ְרוָ ָיֽה׃ ִ֥ Psalm of-David. YHWH (is) my-shepherd. Not shall-I-want. 2 In-pastures-of vegetation he-makes-me-lie-down. By~waters-of resting-places he-leads- me. 3 My-life he-restores. He-guides-me in-firm-paths-of~righteousness for-the-sake-of his-name. 4 Even though~I-walk through-the-valley-of darkest-gloom, not~will-I-fear evil, for~you (are) with-me. Your-rod and- your-staff, they comfort-me. 5 You-arrange before-me a-table in-front-of my-enemies. You-refresh with-oil my-head. My-cup overflows. 6 Surely goodness and-steadfast-love will-pursue-me all~the-days-of my-life, and- I-will-return [to be]10 in-the-house-of~YHWH for-length-of days. 1
The most obvious shapes of Psalm 23 in translation are the clause and phrase shapes. For example, in v. 4, the clause “Your-rod and-your-staff, they comfort-me” (šibṭǝkā ûmišʿantekā hēmmâ yǝnaḥămūnî) is made up of two smaller two-word shapes created by the marked word order (in Hebrew
10. Or: “and I will dwell”; see ch. 9, n3. [ 28 ] Introductory Matters
and also in the English translation). Another prominent aural shape is the patterned repetition in v. 2. The pattern can be better heard in English if the translation reflects Hebrew morphology even more closely: “In- pastures-of vegetation he-makes-lie-down-me. By~waters-of resting-places he-leads-me.” Some aural shapes are difficult to reflect in English translation, for example, shapes created by sound patterns. Some strings of words sound like they belong together because of the similar sounds in them, such as ŝibṭəkā ûmiŝʿantekā (“your-rod and-your-staff”) in v. 4 and dišsǎ ntā bašsě men rōʾšî (“you-refresh with-oil my-head”) in v. 5. (The older [pre-anaptyxis] form of bašsě men is *bašsǎ mn. This produces even more sound similarity: *dašsǐ ntā [or dašsǎ ntā] bašsǎ mn.) Another kind of sound pattern is created by the rhythm of word-groupings in v. 5: the first clause has the shape of 3 words +2 words, which is followed by another 3 word +2 word shape, but consisting of two clauses. The rhythmic shapes overlap with but are distinct from the clausal shapes.
PSALM 100 הו֣ה ְּב ִׂש ְמ ָ ֑חה ּ֥בֹאּו ֜ ְל ָפ ָ֗ניו ִּב ְרנָ ָנֽה׃ ָ ְ ִע ְב ֣דּו ֶאת־י2 ל־ה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ָ יהוה ָּכ ֗ ָ תֹודה ָה ִ ֥ריעּו ֜ ַל ֑ ָ ִמזְ ֥מֹור ְל1 4 יתֹו׃ ּ֤בֹאּו ְׁש ָע ָ ֙ריו׀ ֽ ּוא־ע ָׂשנּו (וְ לֹא) [וְ ל֣ ֹו] ֲא ַנ ְ֑חנּו ֜ ַע ּ֗מֹו וְ ֣צ ֹאן ַמ ְר ִע ֭ ָ ְּד ֗עּו ִ ּֽכי־יְ הוָ ֘ה ֤הּוא ֱא ֹ֫ל ִ ֥הים ֽה3 5 עֹול֣ם ַח ְס ּ֑דֹו וְ ַעד־ ּ֥ד ֹר ָ ֜ו ֗ד ֹר ָ י־טֹוב ְי֭הוָֹ ה ְל ֣ ֹודּו־לֹו ָּב ֲר ֥כּו ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ִּכ ֜ ֗ תֹודה ֲח ֵצר ָ ֹ֥תיו ִּב ְת ִה ָּל֑ה ֽה ֗ ָ ְּב ֱאמּונָ ֽתֹו׃ Psalm of-praise. Shout to-YHWH, all~the-earth. 2 Serve YHWH with- joy. Enter to-his-face11 with-resounding. 3 Know that~YHWH he (is) God. He~made-us, and-his (are) we;12 his-people [are we], and-the-flock- of his-pasture [are we]. 4 Enter his-gates with-praise, [enter] his-courts with-acclamation. Praise~him. Bless his-name. 5 For~good (is) YHWH. Forever (is) his-steadfast-love, and-to~generation and-generation13 (is) his-faithfulness. 1
Psalm 100 begins its first four clauses with imperatives (“shout!” “serve!” “enter!” “know!”), returning to three more imperatives in v. 4 (“enter!” “praise!” “bless!”). These imperatives give a certain shape to the psalm, though we cannot simply assign poetic structure to them. The first three imperative
11. I.e., “his presence.” 12. The Masoretic Text preserves a K/Q variation. The translation reflects the Q reading, which, with ellipsis in the following clauses, is the more plausible grammatical and semantic reading. For a discussion of these issues, see Tate 1990: 533–44. 13. I.e., “to all generations.”
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 29 ]
clauses fit together in a way that the others do not, through other integrated repetitions or similarities in the text: TEXT 2.1 hārîʿû layhwh kol-hāʾāreṣ Shout to-YHWH, all~the-earth.
1b
ל־ה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ָ יהוה ָּכ ֗ ָ ָה ִ ֥ריעּו ֜ ַל
ʿibdû ʾet-yhwh bǝśimḥâ Serve ‹o.m.›~YHWH with-joy.
2a
הו֣ה ְּב ִׂש ְמ ָ ֑חה ָ ְִע ְב ֣דּו ֶאת־י
bōʾû lǝpānāyw birnānâ Enter to-his-face with-resounding.
2b
ּ֥בֹאּו ֜ ְל ָפ ָ֗ניו ִּב ְרנָ ָנֽה׃
Notice that the three imperatives are not synonyms; they are repetitions only in grammatical mood and person (which in Hebrew includes sound repetition of the ending -û). The first and second clauses have in common the object “YHWH” (yhwh), but with different grammatical particles/constructions. The second and third clauses share the construction “with-X” (the preposition b- +feminine noun). Even though “joy” (śimḥâ) and “resounding/exultation” (rǝnānâ) have semantic overlap, they also have a key difference: basic to śimḥâ is the element of joy, an emotion, which is often expressed as an outburst, while basic to rǝnānâ (from the root r-n-n) is the element of shouting or vocalizing, which often (but not exclusively) expresses joy. The clause-final noun “resounding” (rǝnānâ) thus simultaneously overlaps semantically, in a different way, with “Shout!” (hārîʿû, from the root r-w-ʿ, “shout/make noise”) at the very beginning of the psalm.14 The first and third clauses also share the preposition “to” (l-) at the beginning of the second word. These repetitions, in combination, give the three clauses a highly integrated shape. The patterning can be heard, but it cannot be reduced to simple correspondence (or parallelism) between any two lines. Another textual feature that gives shape to Psalm 100 is verbal ellipsis. The three bracketed words in the translation of vv. 3–4 are syntactically required but not present in the Hebrew text. (The English translation can be read without them to more closely resemble the feel of the Hebrew.) Ellipsis is common in biblical poetry and affects aural shapes by introducing gaps that may have a phonetic realization (e.g., pause) and by creating interrelationships between segments of text.
14. I have borrowed the translation of birnānâ, “with resounding,” from Goldingay (2008: 90, 133). Goldingay points out the use of the root r-n-n/r-n-h in Pss 95:1 and 98:4, also with the verb r-w-ʿ, “to shout.” For extended discussions of śimḥâ and rǝnānâ, see Ficker 1997; and Ruprecht 1997. BDB (943) indicates that these two nouns are “parallel” in this verse and another (Job 20:5) but does not comment on the correspondence between rǝnānâ and hārîʿû, which is just as significant in this context. As O’Connor has reflected, “Central to the definition [of parallelism] is a notion of synonymy that has played havoc with the Biblical Hebrew lexicon” (1997: 640). [ 30 ] Introductory Matters
These are just a few of the many aural textual shapes of Psalms 23 and 100. In reading biblical poetry, we must be attuned to listening for all kinds of textual shapes, but we cannot equate just any shape with poetic lines or poetic structure. Clauses, for example, often correspond with biblical poetic lines, but not every clause is a line.15 Ellipsis is often related to line structure, but not necessarily so, and furthermore, ellipsis functions in various ways with regard to poetic shapes. Repetitions and correspondences do not all have the same significance for line structure, or in relation to the larger structures of a poem. We must account for which aural textual shapes emerge as lines or larger structural units in biblical poetry, and why.
EXCURSUS B. WHAT DID THE ANCIENT POEMS SOUND LIKE? Some readers may be wondering how we can “listen” for shapes of ancient poetic texts with our limited knowledge of how the ancient Hebrew language was pronounced and the impossibility of encountering native speakers. The Hebrew Bibles that we use today (e.g., the text of the Leningrad Codex produced in Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia) preserve a textual tradition that has been essentially unchanged since the vocalization and cantillation/accent system was codified in the seventh through tenth centuries ce.16 Before this (and continuing to this day for synagogue scrolls), only the consonantal text was copied. When Lowth was laying the foundations for modern biblical poetry study and stating the irrecoverable loss of ancient Hebrew pronunciation (1835: 33), historical linguistics did not yet exist. Akkadian (East Semitic) had not been deciphered, and there was very little comparative Northwest Semitic language data (e.g., the Ugaritic texts and Canaanite Amarna letters had not yet been discovered). We now know much more about the history and development of the Hebrew language, and we can study the trajectory of language change from an unattested parent language referred to as Proto-Semitic, to ancient Northwest Semitic (Ugaritic /Canaanite dialects /inscriptional Hebrew /Aramaic), to the Hebrew of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Greek transliterations (see Steiner 2005), to the Hebrew of the Masoretic Text. The Masoretes were remarkable in their meticulous attention to the details of the pronunciation
15. A clause is a syntactic unit consisting of a subject and predicate and accompanying components. On the challenges of theoretically defining and practically delimiting the “sentence” in biblical Hebrew, especially in relation to the utterance, see IBHS 4.8a–e. 16. For a summary of the Masoretic work, see Kelley, Mynatt, and Crawford (1998: 14–16). More detailed explanations and evaluations of the data can be found in Yeivin (1980) and Dotan (2007).
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 31 ]
tradition they had received. Scholars today, unlike Lowth, recognize the antiquity of the Masoretic reading tradition: the Masoretes were preservers of an extensive tradition, not innovators of pronunciation and phrasing (Orlinsky 1966: xxxii; Dotan 2007: 606; Steiner 2010: 232–33). While we can never know exactly what a particular ancient Hebrew poem sounded like, we can study the trajectory of the historical development of the Hebrew language to approximate the earlier pronunciation of the ancient poems that are preserved in the later medieval Masoretic Text.17 Hebrew consonants remained relatively stable, though the adoption by Hebrew of the twenty-two-consonant Phoenician alphabet for potentially twenty-nine phonemes (if all twenty-nine Proto-Semitic phonemes were in use in ancient Hebrew at the time) obscures when these sound mergers actually took place (Steiner 2005; Gzella 2013: 854). For this reason, shared phonetic features of consonants in a given poem may be uncertain (see section 4.4 on phonetic similarity). Hebrew vowels were less stable than consonants; that is, they underwent more systematic shifts or changes between the writing of the ancient poems and the Tiberian vocalization. Only long vowels were preserved in the consonantal orthography, and not consistently. The evidence confirms that ancient Hebrew, like Tiberian Hebrew, had stress, but the position of stress at different times is less certain (Gzella 2013: 854). To reconstruct historical forms, we must rely on the tools of comparative Semitics and historical linguistics. Language change must be understood within this historical trajectory, even if there is uncertainty about when the sound changes happened or when the poems were composed or written down. The ancient language of the biblical poetic texts belongs to the historical stage of Hebrew after the loss of case endings and final short vowels but before anaptyxis (e.g., in qatl forms, including II-yod bases) and pretonic/propretonic vowel reduction.18 That is, in relation to the Tiberian Masoretic Text (the predominant biblical Hebrew textual tradition and the one used in this book), some of the most significant differences in vocalization between the medieval Hebrew tradition and ancient Hebrew include the following: • Anaptyxis: e.g., ancient *malk, rather than Tiberian melek • Vowel reduction: e.g., ancient *malakīm, rather than Tiberian məlākîm
17. For an overview of phonological changes in Northwest Semitic, see Gzella 2013: 853–55. Regional dialect differences in the pronunciation of Hebrew would also have existed at any given time. On the phonology of dialects in Syria-Palestine from 1000 to 586 bce, see Garr 1985: 23–77. 18. It is possible that the oldest poems in the Bible originated in a stage earlier than this, but reconstructing an earlier stage of Hebrew for these poems is, given the current evidence, highly speculative. [ 32 ] Introductory Matters
• The divine name: the Masoretes point YHWH with the vowels of Adonai, not Yahweh19 In this book, transliterations of the Hebrew text follow the Masoretic Text, unless marked with an asterisk (*) to indicate an earlier historical form. If I make phonetic arguments, I will be clear about what ancient forms I am presuming. Even though we cannot know exactly how the ancient poems were pronounced, what we do know provides a solid background for inquiring into the verbal shapes of the ancient poems.
2.2. BIBLICAL POETIC LINES ARE NOT CUED BY TEXT-I NTERNAL END-M ARKING; RATHER, THEY EMERGE IN PATTERNED OR ORGANIZED RELATION TO EACH OTHER
The poetic line is not simply a string of words that begins and then comes to an end; as a whole, it has a shape or contour (Brogan 1993b: 694). Yet a common strategy in many versification systems for communicating these line contours—for marking the line as a rhythmical and structural unit—is by marking or weighting line-ends (695). Often the weighting of line-ends is achieved through vocal performance. For example, the end of the line may be marked by a performative pause or elongation of the final syllable (Tsur 2008: 180, 184).20 Ancient Hebrew poetic lines may have been end- marked somehow in performance, but we do not have access to the ancient performances.21
19. On the complexities of the Masoretic reading tradition of the divine name and for the argument that even the oldest manuscripts represent ʾădōnāy (“the Lord”) and not šhǝmāʾ (Aramaic, “the Name”), see Rösel 2007. 20. The possibilities of the human voice in this regard are vast; see Tsur 2008: 133– 34. If singing or music is involved, there are even more. 21. We do, however, have access, within the medieval manuscripts of the Hebrew Bible and within diverse synagogues of modern Jewish communities, to different cantillation traditions of the Hebrew Scriptures. It is impossible to know to what extent these systems reflect ancient traditions (Yeivin 1980: 158–59). On perhaps the oldest of these traditions, the Yemenite cantillation, see Sharvit 2001: 1047–48. For musicologists’ attempts to trace the Masoretic system to cantillation in the temple, see Haïk-Vantoura and Wheeler 1991; Burns 2011; and Mitchell 2012. Also of interest is Dresher’s (2008) comparison and discussion of the relationship between Masoretic cantillation and Gregorian chant. The predominant accentual/cantillation system is the Tiberian system, developed by the Masoretic scholars between the seventh and tenth centuries to preserve the established (quite earlier) reading tradition of this
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 33 ]
In addition, poets of various traditions frequently make use of poetic devices, elements internal to the text, to mark line-ends.22 These devices include various kinds of markers in the final syllables of the line, including alteration of the expected metrical sound patterns and strategies of sound repetition, such as rhyme. Some poets also mark line-ends with semantic emphasis, by putting important words at the end (Brogan 1993b: 694–95). Biblical Hebrew poetry, however, does not end-mark lines in these ways. Meter is not a device of biblical poetry, and thus alterations of metrical patterns are not used to weight line-ends. Most end-rhyme in biblical poetry results from “grammatical rhymes”—the repetition of final morphemes such as pronominal suffixes or singular/plural nominal endings.23 These “grammatical rhymes” often appear in the context of other patterns and are not limited to line-ends. Thus, they are not indicators of line-ends per se and cannot be said to end-mark lines as rhyme conventionally does in much English poetry.24
time. The Masoretic accentual/cantillation marks, as they relate to poetic lineation, are discussed further in section 4.3. Of special interest with regard to end-marking in performance are the so-called pausal forms in the Masoretic (Tiberian) text. These forms of words, in contrast to the unmarked forms called contextual forms, have a lengthened vowel on the stressed syllable. The pausal forms frequently occur at verse ends and major disjunctive accents, and some scholars have explored pausal forms as indicators of colometry (Revell 1981; Sanders 2003). Dresher (1994) argues that the accents and pausal forms function together as the Masoretes’ guide to intonational phrasing for the correct (linguistic) prosodic sense of the text. Within Dresher’s account of the prosodic hierarchy, the pausal forms occur at the ends of “intonational phrases,” albeit in a deficient system (14; see further DeCaen and Dresher 2020). Revell (1980, 2015) views the pausal forms and accents as reflecting two independent and sometimes conflicting systems from different stages of the reading tradition (see also Revell 1976: 194–96). Pitcher (2020), however, has demonstrated that the “pausal” forms are more accurately understood as “lengthened prosodic forms that are most often found at intonational and intermediate phrase boundaries, associated with or without pauses” (237). I.e., these “pausal” forms, like other cross-linguistic lengthened forms, can occur at multiple prosodic phrase levels within an utterance and serve various prosodic functions (235). Along with the accents/cantillation marks, they are best accounted for within a prosodic phonology description of Tiberian Hebrew, which should not be confused or equated with poetic prosody, the poetic system of versification. 22. According to Brogan, devices for end-fixing the line “constitute one of the most distinctive categories of metrical universals, conspicuous in a wide range of verse systems” (1993b: 695). 23. See Watson 2005: 231; and Segert 1992: 172. Segert calls these “grammatical rhymes,” or assonances. On medieval and Renaissance views of rhyme in biblical poetry, see Berlin 1991: 35–44. 24. “Pure” or “full” rhymes, based on identity of sounds of different endings, which are often the only admissible rhymes in European poetries, are rare in biblical Hebrew poetry. End-repetition of entire words is also rare in biblical Hebrew poetry (Watson 2005: 277). Most scholars agree that rhyme does not play much of a role in ancient Semitic poetry (230). [ 34 ] Introductory Matters
Biblical poetry also does not consistently place important words at the end of lines to end-mark the lines semantically.25 Yet in biblical poetry, sounds and grammatical patterns and meanings of words do contribute to the contours that can be heard as lines. The difference is that these textual poetic line devices cannot be approached as cues for line- ends or as end-fixing markers, but as devices that, in combination, create the contours and shapes of lines. In biblical poetry, line beginnings are just as important for cueing lines as line-ends are. This is because biblical lines emerge in relation to each other, not in relation to expected templates.26 In metrical poetry, end-fixing the line so that it can be heard in relation to an external template is often essential. But in biblical poetry, lines are not organized in this way. Biblical lines emerge dynamically, not in serial fashion cued by line- ends or breaks, but as the listener or reader hears shapes and patterns and organizes, and sometimes reorganizes them, in relation to each other. We can explore end-marking and relationality in biblical Hebrew poetry further with an example from Psalm 23. Verse 2 provides an example of “grammatical end-rhyme”: TEXT 2.2 binʾôt dešeʾ yarbîṣēnî 2a In-pastures-of vegetation he-makes-lie-down-me. ʿal-mê mənūḥôt yənahălēnî By~waters-of resting-places he-leads-me.
2b
ִּבנְ ֣אֹות ֶּ֭ד ֶׁשא יַ ְר ִּב ֵיצ֑נִ י ל־מי ְמנֻ ֣חֹות יְ נַ ֲה ֵ ֽלנִ י׃ ֖ ֵ ַע
Both lines end with the pronominal suffix “me” (-ēnî) attached to the final word of the clause. Notice, however, that the “end-rhyme” is only a small part of the patterning between these two lines. They also share the same syntax (prepositional phrase +verb), with the same morphological pattern (preposition–noun +noun +verb–pronominal suffix), which creates in both lines a similar intonational contour of three accentual units. As such, the final pronominal suffix (-ēnî) can be heard as the completion of the pattern begun in the first half of the verse. The sense of two lines /“line-ends”
25. This is not to say that words in final position are never prominent. In Isa 5:7c–d, the two puns produced by line-internal rhymes rhetorically mark the final words of the lines and strengthen the shapes of the lines: He waited for justice [mišpāṭ], but behold, bloodshed [miśpāḥ], for righteousness [ṣədāqâ], but behold, outcry [ṣəʿāqâ].
וַ י� ַ ְ֤קו ְל ִמ ְׁש ָּפ ֙ט וְ ִה ֵּנ֣ה ִמ ְׂש ֔ ָּפח �ָקה וְ ִה ֵּנ֥ה ְצע ָ ֽ�ָקה׃ ֖ ָ ִל ְצד
26. The only external template that biblical poetry uses—the acrostic—marks the beginnings of lines, not the ends.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 35 ]
results from the entire repeated pattern, not simply from the occurrence of “end-rhyme.” This can be further demonstrated by a comparison between ABAʹBʹ patterns in biblical poetic lines with ABBʹAʹ (chiastic) patterns. Psalm 23:2 uses an AB/AʹBʹ pattern. Deuteronomy 32:16 uses an AB/BʹAʹ pattern: TEXT 2.3 yaqnīʾūhû bǝzārîm They-made-jealous-him with-strange-gods.
16a
יַ ְקנִ ֻ ֖אהּו ְּבזָ ִ ֑רים
bǝtôʿēbōt yakʿîsūhû With-abominations they-provoked-him.
16b
יסהּו׃ ֽ ֻ תֹוע ֖בֹת יַ ְכ ִע ֵ ְּב
In these two lines, the “grammatical rhyme” (pronominal suffix “him,” -ūhû) is in a different position, but the pattern is still completed at the end of the second line. It is not the occurrence of a line-end marker that allows the clauses to be heard as lines but rather the completion of the whole pattern begun by the first clause. Brogan calls this the “internal logic of completion” that helps the reader/listener recognize rhythmic line-units in many lines of biblical poetry (1993b: 694).27 In his recent book on biblical poetry, Dobbs-Allsopp still maintains the language of end-fixing of lines. Yet he recognizes that iterative patterns can mark the end of a line only “belatedly, retrospectively” (2015: 52; cf. Smith 1968: 10–14). The concept of “retrospective” line-fixing goes beyond a formal approach to the end-marking of poetic lines (typical of biblical scholarship) and enters the realm of the cognitive processes of the reader or listener. As we will see, perceptual Gestalt theory is particularly well suited to accounting for these processes through a part-whole approach to the biblical poetic line. Biblical poetic lines emerge in relation to each other, not in serial fashion with line-ends or breaks but through the dynamic mental processes of the listener or reader in hearing shapes and patterns and organizing them in relation to each other.
2.3. BIBLICAL POETIC LINES EMERGE IN SMALL GROUPINGS, OFTEN OF TWO OR THREE LINES, BUT SOMETIMES LARGER
As many scholars have noted, single lines (sometimes called monocola) are rare in biblical poetry.28 Yet they do occur in biblical poems, in various positions: at 27. Brogan, however, accepts the once-predominant view that parallelism in ancient Hebrew poetry was threaded into meter. 28. Single lines are discussed in Watson 2005: 168–72. On single lines in Proverbs, see M. V. Fox 2009: 805; on single lines in First Isaiah, see Couey 2015: 107. [ 36 ] Introductory Matters
the beginnings and ends of poems and between stanzas or within stanzas.29 The relational aspect of a poetic line to other lines is not characteristic only of biblical poetry. Literary critic and poet Longenbach writes, “You might say that a one-line poem doesn’t really have anything we can discuss as a line, except inasmuch as we feel its relationship to lines in other poems. We need at least two lines to begin to hear how the line is functioning” (2008: 28). But in biblical poetry, where there is no metrical template to provide an expectation for internal line structure, the line needs other lines not just to hear how the line is functioning but to hear that it is a line at all.30 Biblical poetic lines emerge in relation to each other within small line- groupings—typically of two or three lines, but also larger groupings. These line-groupings are often organized into larger units of structure, or stanzas, though some biblical poems are short, without stanzas (e.g., Ps 100), or so integrated that they lack stanzas (e.g., Deut 32).31 What this means for biblical poetry line structure is that we have not adequately “lineated” a poem unless we have heard how each line fits into its line-grouping (or occasionally, how it stands alone), and often, how the line- grouping fits into the larger context. To put it another way, hearing line- groupings is just as important as hearing lines, because the line’s patterning or organization depends upon its relationship to the line-grouping. For example, we considered earlier in this chapter the verbal shapes of various kinds of repetition in the first three clauses of Psalm 100 (section 2.1, text 2.1). These three clauses are (uncontroversially) the first three lines of the poem (1a is the psalm superscription).
29. See, e.g., the closing line of the Song of the Sea (Exod 15:18) and the single line between stanzas in the Blessings of Jacob (Gen 49:18). I discuss other single or unintegrated lines in section 7.1. 30. Sometimes the line-pairs or line-triples of biblical poetry are called “lines” by biblical scholars, because of this phenomenon that a single line by itself is incomplete. As O’Connor points out, however, the line, not the grouping, is the basic unit of structure (1997: 52–53). In Geller’s critique of O’Connor’s choice of the line as the basic unit, he argues that “the single line has no perceptual reality at all in Biblical verse of the sort required of a basic unit” (1982: 71). Cloete argues, in defense of O’Connor, that one should not “confuse the perception of verse with verse structure” (1989: 85). O’Connor and Cloete are quite correct in their logic of the basic unit; however, Geller is also correct about the need for a model that accounts for the basic unit as a perceptual reality. In biblical poetry, we cannot separate the idea of verse structure from the perception of verse and still have a line. 31. There is no standard terminology for poetic structure in biblical poetry scholarship, so I have adopted “line-grouping” as a simple descriptive term for the unit above the line. I avoid the English terms “couplet” and “tercet,” which may imply that these two-or three-line groupings are stanzas. I use “stanza” in a general way to refer to a group of lines in a biblical poem that has a degree of segregation from the whole poem and/or its own internal integration and that serves as a structural unit in the larger organization of the poem.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 37 ]
TEXT 2.4 hārîʿû layhwh kol-hāʾāreṣ Shout to-YHWH, all~the-earth.
1b
ל־ה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ָ יהוה ָּכ ֗ ָ ָה ִ ֥ריעּו ֜ ַל
ʿibdû ʾet-yhwh bǝśimḥâ Serve ‹o.m.›~YHWH with-joy.
2a
הו֣ה ְּב ִׂש ְמ ָ ֑חה ָ ְִע ְב ֣דּו ֶאת־י
bōʾû lǝpānāyw birnānâ Enter to-his-face with-resounding.
2b
ּ֥בֹאּו ֜ ְל ָפ ָ֗ניו ִּב ְרנָ ָנֽה׃
All of the patterns mentioned in section 2.1 that contribute to the (aural) verbal shapes of the whole line-triple are highlighted. It would be absurd to try to understand what makes 1b a line in the absence of 2a and 2b. Likewise, if we isolate 2a and 2b from 1b—hearing 2a and 2b as a line-pair instead of as two parts of a line-triple—the patterned relationships change, and we have two quite different lines of poetry from the opening line-triple of Ps 100 that actually occurs. Likewise, if we consider Psalm 100:4–5, we notice that it is the line-groupings that determine how the lines are heard, not simply the lines. In vv. 1–2, the Masoretic versification does not follow the poetic line-grouping. What about vv. 4–5? עֹול֣ם ָ י־טֹוב ְי֭הוָֹ ה ְל ֣ ִּכ5 ֹודּו־לֹו ָּב ֲר ֥כּו ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ֜ ֗ תֹודה ֲח ֵצר ָ ֹ֥תיו ִּב ְת ִה ָּל֑ה ֽה ֗ ָ ּ֤בֹאּו ְׁש ָע ָ ֙ריו׀ ְּב4 ַח ְס ּ֑דֹו וְ ַעד־ ּ֥ד ֹר ָ ֜ו ֗ד ֹר ֱאמּונָ ֽתֹו׃ Enter his- gates with- praise, [enter] his- courts with- acclamation. 5 Praise~him. Bless his-name. For~good (is) YHWH. Forever (is) his- steadfast-love, and-to~generation and-generation (is) his-faithfulness. 4
Whether we hear “Praise~him, bless his name” (hôdû-lô bārăkû šǝmô) as one line or two depends on how we hear it in relation to what precedes and what follows. (The discussion of Ps 100 is resumed in section 7.1.) In biblical poetry, lines emerge in relation to each other. Lineation of biblical poems entails hearing both lines and line-groupings. We must account for the line-grouping even as we account for the line.
2.4. BIBLICAL POETRY IS FREE-R HYTHM POETRY
The best term we have in English to describe the nonmetrical rhythmic nature of biblical poetry is “free-rhythm” poetry.32 In a description that includes
32. Thus too Dobbs-Allsopp (2015; drawing upon Hrushovski 1960) emphasizes the positive implication of “free rhythms,” in contrast to the more negatively marked “free verse” (French vers libre), implying “freed from” some metrical norm (120). For [ 38 ] Introductory Matters
modern as well as ancient biblical poems, Harshav (Hrushovski) uses “free rhythms” to designate “poems which (1) have no consistent metrical scheme . . . but (2) do have a poetic language organized so as to create impressions and fulfill functions of poetic rhythm” (Hrushovski 1960: 183). “Free rhythm” should not be understood as completely free of rhythmic constraints or conventions, as the term may imply.33 Free-rhythm poetry still consists of organized language and sound patterns within a poetic tradition—not just anything goes. In section 1.2, I noted the decline of metrical approaches to biblical poetry and the recent tendency of scholars to replace the language of meter with rhythm. Rhythm is related to but different from meter, and it is essential to understand the distinction. Meter is a device that creates verse structure (e.g., feet and lines) through regular phonological patterning of a certain binary feature of the language (e.g., “stress” vs. “unstress”; Brogan 1993c: 768).34 The metrical pattern is an abstract scheme for the line: where there are deviations from the pattern, as in English accentual-syllabic meter, there is still an ongoing expectation for the metrical line scheme (Tsur 2008: 156).35 Harshav’s (Hrushovski’s) view of the relationship between meter and rhythm in biblical Hebrew poetry, see Harshav 2014: 1–13, 40–63. 33. See, e.g., Frigyesi (1993), who explores this within the context of eastern Ashkenazic music. In a number of modern folk and art music traditions of the world, including the Middle East, there is some metered music, but a lot of music is somewhere between metrical and what Westerners understand as nonmetrical (Nettl 2008: 74). 34. Whether one regards biblical poetry as metrical depends on how one defines meter (see, e.g., the overview of metrical approaches in Kuntz 1999: 52–55). This is true not just now but also in the premodern era; see Berlin 1991: 35–44. De’ Rossi, e.g., proposed a quantifiable meter of ideas, which Lowth utilized in his Lectures (1835: 43). While Brogan’s definition of meter will perhaps be considered too narrow by some, it preserves the key distinction between biblical Hebrew poetry and the metrical poetries to which it has been most often mistakenly likened: biblical poetry is built from patterned lines that fit to each other, not lines that fit to a phonological metrical pattern. 35. An important question for accentual metrical approaches to biblical poetry is how this expectation applies to accentual meter. This problem is not unique to biblical poetry. Brogan explores some of the problems that prosodists face in distinguishing “accentual verse” as a distinct and legitimate category (1993a). Unlike accentual-syllabic verse, which preserves both the abstract pattern and the (sometimes conflicting) rhythm of speech, in accentual verse the stress governs the rhythm, and the stresses must be true speech-stresses (see Bridges 1921: 92). This makes it quite difficult to account for lines that do not fit the metrical stress pattern—there is no abstract pattern that exists in the reader’s mind alongside the actual rhythm of speech. Based on both typology of different varieties of accentual verse in Western languages and the paradox that stress cannot provide the meter while meter simultaneously provides the stress, Brogan suggests that if accentual meter is a legitimate category, “there is something more distinctive about the metrical organization of a[ccentual] v[erse] than mere regularity of stress count” (1993a: 6). Some biblical scholars treat accentual meter as merely descriptive of the various rhythmic patterns they perceive in a poem (e.g., lines of 3:3, or 3:2, or 2:2), while others treat it as more of a template or expectation for the shape of the line.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 39 ]
Rhythm—a perceptible sound pattern that can be repeated and varied—is distinct from meter and provides movement to a poem (Brogan 1993c: 772; 1993f: 1067–68). Unlike meter, rhythm embraces a broad range of non-binary features: pitch or intonation patterns, stress, vowel lengths, timing, and juncture (Brogan 1993c: 773).36 This complexity is what makes rhythm—aptly described as a felt phenomenon—so difficult to study (Brogan 1993f: 1068). Rhythm, like meter, relates to patterning. But meter is an abstraction, a template, while rhythm is perceived patterning. The perception of rhythm as patterned movement is dependent not just upon repetition or recurrence of stimuli but upon the organization of a series of stimuli as a series of groups of stimuli. Each group must be perceived as a whole (Woodrow 1951: 1232; cf. Tsur 2008: 155–56).37 That is, in poetry, for a segment of text (i.e., a line or line-grouping) to be perceived as rhythmic, it must be perceived as a group of stimuli, a perceptual whole. The “wholeness” of the segment allows us to hear it as a rhythmic unit.38 In metrical poetry, even though line after line may follow the same meter, the rhythm of each line can be experienced uniquely and dynamically. We can analyze the difference between a metrical approach and a free- rhythm approach to biblical poetry by using Psalm 23:5–6 as a case study. A common English layout can be found in this translation from the NRSV: (5) You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. (6) Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD my whole life long. This layout works well for a traditional English translation: lines are about the same length, the layout fits well in a printed biblical column, and each verse divides into two balanced line-pairs. Might this regular format also reflect the Hebrew line structure? Table 2.1 shows the alternating pattern of long and short lines, based on stress and historical syllable counts in Hebrew.
36. On further dimensions of poetic rhythm, see the Style special issue (2015) on free-verse rhythm, in particular the articles by Gerber (on intonation) and Tartakovsky (on pace). 37. On the role of the psychological present (Woodrow) or immediate memory (Tsur) in rhythm perception, see section 7.3. 38. This perceptual phenomenon is related to the importance of line-end markers in many traditions of poetry. [ 40 ] Introductory Matters
Table 2.1 PSALM 23:5–6 : STRESS AND SYLL ABLE COUNTS, LINEATED ACCORDING TO NRSV
Line Text/Translation
Stress Count
5a
Syllable Count
ַּת ֲע ֬ר ְֹך ְל ָפנַ֙ י׀ ֻׁש ְל ָ֗חן
3
7
ֶ �נ֥גֶ ד צ ְֹר ָ ֑רי
2
4
אׁשי ִ֗ ֹ ִּד ַ ּׁ֖שנְ ָּת ַב ֶ ּׁ֥ש ֶמן ֜ר
3
7
ּכֹוסי ְרוָ ָיֽה׃ ִ֥
2
5
4 (3?)
8
2
5
2 (3?)
7
2
4
taʿărōk lǝpānay šulḥān You-arrange before-me a-table 5b
neged ṣōrǝrāy in-front-of my-enemies.
5c diššantā baššemen rōʾšî You-refresh with-oil my-head. 5d kôsî rǝwāyâ My-cup overflows. 6a
ʾak ṭôb wāḥesed yirdǝpûnî
ַ ֤אְך׀ ֤טֹוב וָ ֶ ֣ח ֶסד ִי ְ֭ר ְּדפּונִ י
Surely goodness and-steadfast-love will-pursue-me 6b
ל־יְמי ַח ָּי֑י ֣ ֵ ָּכ
kol-yǝmê ḥayyāy all~the-days-of my-life,
הוה ֗ ָ ית־י ְ֜ וְ ַׁש ְב ִ ּ֥תי ְּב ֵב
6c wǝšabtî bǝbêt-yhwh
and-I-will-return in-the-house-of~YHWH יָמים׃ ֽ ִ א ֶרְך ֹ ֣ ְל
6d lǝʾōrek yāmîm for-length-of days.
The traditional Masoretic cantillation of the Hebrew text has four accents in line 6a and two accents in line 6c. However, we might join words in 6a (ַאְך and טֹוב, “surely” and “goodness”) and separate words in 6c ( ְּב ֵביתand יְ הוָ ה, “in-the-house-of” and “YHWH”) to achieve a consistent (3:2) stress pattern throughout.39 In a metrical approach to biblical poetic lines, the lines are somehow fit (or emended) to a patterned template.40 This abstract sound
39. This counting of stresses, especially in 6a, is rather forced; one of the weaknesses of accentual approaches to meter is that there is no agreement on how to identify or count accents (see McConnell 2008: 474). 40. Another weakness of accentual approaches to meter is the many instances of textual emendation to make the text conform to the proposed meter (McConnell 2008: 474).
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 41 ]
pattern provides the framework for organizing the line, and the perception of a rhythmic line (in a 3:2 pattern) arises in relation to this metrical line organization. If we approach biblical poetry as free-rhythm poetry, however, the situation is quite different. First, although we can expect local patterns, we cannot have the expectation or preference that line lengths (by stress or by syllable) be consistently regular. In Psalm 23, for example, we cannot assume that the lines of v. 6 should match the lines of v. 5, as natural as that may seem to us. Regularity of line lengths cannot be the primary thing we are listening for and expecting, or it will obscure other important shapes of the text.41 Second, because rhythm is a complex perceptual phenomenon, we need to develop a more nuanced understanding of the phonological patterns or shapes that do emerge in biblical poetry. We cannot simply take the old “metrical” line counts (such as 3:3, 3:2, and 2:2) and call them the free rhythms of biblical Hebrew poetry. Rhythm is far more multifaceted and complex than identifying and counting stresses. It may include stress in its patterns, but not necessarily as a binary feature. That is, stress may be relevant beyond a simple opposition of stress/unstress, for example, in larger phonological patternings of syllable structure or larger contours of language. Furthermore, metrical accounts have sometimes conceptualized balance and imbalance of lines as a binary opposition.42 As we will see (in sections 5.5 and 5.6), balance/imbalance is a far more complex perceptual phenomenon than a metrical model allows. Third, the “free rhythms” of biblical poetry—though deriving from the contours of normal language—cannot be equated merely with the rhythms of everyday speech or language. “Free rhythm” still refers to poetic rhythm. Poetic rhythm in biblical poetry, like the poetic rhythm of metrical poetry and modern free-verse poetry, is dependent upon lines (and line-groupings) as perceptual wholes. The perception of rhythm in biblical poems is intertwined with the emergence of poetic lines: how we hear the rhythms of language affects how we hear lines, and how we hear lines affects how we hear poetic rhythm. The free rhythms of biblical poetry emerge within the context of lines
41. Some scholars tend to lineate according to regular line lengths within a poem; others tend to prioritize regularity within line-groupings. As an example of the latter, Greenstein calls “relative balance of line length” the first and foremost of his three primary features of parallelism (2012: 602). For Greenstein, another pattern (in non- parallel lines) is regularity of imbalance (1986–87: 37). Balance/imbalance are important perceptual dynamics in the structure and effects of biblical line-groupings that are explored in sections 5.5, 5.6; on line lengths, see also sections 7.2, 7.3. 42. E.g., for Budde (1882), the distinguishing characteristic of the qinah meter was not simply the predominant 3:2 accentual pattern (which he did not claim was all- pervasive in Lam 1–4) but rather, heavy-light or long-short patterning, in contrast to the balance so common in many poetic line-pairs. [ 42 ] Introductory Matters
and line-groupings, both as perceived movement within the line and also as perceived movement of the line within its line-grouping. We must hear the line and line-grouping in biblical poetry in order to hear poetic rhythm. That is, we must account for the line and line-grouping in biblical poetry if we are to account for poetic rhythm.
2.5. LINES OF BIBLICAL POETRY ARE OF VARIABLE LENGTHS, BUT THEY TEND TO FALL WITHIN CERTAIN RANGES
The lines of a biblical poem vary in length within the free rhythms of biblical poetry, to lesser or greater degrees in different poems. Overall, though, line lengths tend to fall within certain “normal” ranges. Biblical scholars agree that biblical poetic lines cannot be “too long” or “too short”—but what these limits are and how to measure them are not clear cut. Table 2.2 summarizes some of these ranges. Scholars differ on the extent to which they treat these ranges as prescriptive or descriptive—whether they regard them as rules or guidelines when it comes to lineating biblical poetic texts. We can look at Psalm 23 again to consider how line length ranges might affect lineation of the poem. Verse 1 may seem like it should be two lines (rather than a single line), but if lineated as two lines, it is made up of two atypically short lines, especially line 1b, as shown by table 2.3. Whether Psalm 23:1b fits word and syntactic unit ranges depends upon whether we count the negative particle ( לֹאlōʾ, “not”). The Masoretic cantillation assigns לֹאits own accent (stress) in this context (this is not always the case), yet scholars are hesitant to count negative particles in line-length word
Table 2.2 PROPOSED LINE LENGTH RANGES IN BIBLICAL POETRY Scholar
Range: Stresses/Words
Hrushovski (1960: 189)
2–4 stresses
Freedman (1980) O’Connor (1997: 87)
Range: Syllables 3–12 syllablesa
2–5 syntactic units (generally speaking, equivalent to 2–5 words)
Geller (1993: 509–10); Couey (2015: 48)
2–6 words/stresses (but more commonly 3–5 words/ stresses)
Fokkelman (2001: 37, 47–48)
2–4 stresses
a wide range, but 8 is “central norm” and 7, 8, 9 are “essential”
a
I collected this descriptive range based on the data in the essays of Freedman 1980.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 43 ]
Table 2.3 PSALM 23:1: STRESS AND SYLL ABLE COUNTS Line
Text/Translation הו֥ה ֜ר ֹ ֗ ִעי ָ ְי
1a
Stresses/Words
Syllables
2 stresses, 2 words/syntactic units
4 syllables
2 stresses, 1? 2? words/syntactic units
3 syllables
yhwh rōʿî 1b
YHWH (is) my-shepherd. ֣ל ֹא ֶא ְח ָ ֽסר׃ lōʾ ʾeḥsār Not shall-I-want.
Table 2.4 PSALM 23:6: STRESS AND SYLL ABLE COUNTS Line 6a
Text/Translation
Stresses/Words
ל־יְמי ַח ָּי֑י ֣ ֵ ַ ֤אְך׀ ֤טֹוב וָ ֶ ֣ח ֶסד ִי ְ֭ר ְּדפּונִ י ָּכ6? stresses, 6? 7? words/
ʾak ṭôb wāḥesed yirdǝpûnî kol-yǝmê ḥayyāy
Syllables 13 syllables
syntactic units
Surely goodness and-steadfast-love will- pursue-me all~the-days-of my-life, 6b
יָמים׃ ֽ ִ א ֶרְך ֹ ֣ הוה ְל ֗ ָ ית־י ְ֜ וְ ַׁש ְב ִ ּ֥תי ְּב ֵב4? stresses, 5 words/ wǝšabtî bǝbêt-yhwh lǝʾōrek yāmîm
11 syllables
syntactic units
and-I-will-return in-the-house-of~YHWH for-length-of days.
or syntactic unit counts.43 Scholars who find line length ranges inconclusive in this verse might turn to a contextual approach to resolve this lineation, such as the semantic or rhythmic importance of the negative particle here.44 If the particle is considered important enough, it might be counted, in which case the line would not be too short. Psalm 23:6 is an example of a lineation (based on possible “parallelism” between the lines) that produces lines that may be considered “too long.” If Ps 23:6 is made up of two lines (rather than four), line 6a is too long by counts of stresses, syllables, words, and syntactic units, as shown by table 2.4. Word count is ambiguous here as in 23:1, depending on whether the short word ( ָּכלkol, “all”) should be counted.45 How much should the notion of “too
43. See O’Connor 1997: 300, 305–6; and Holladay 1999: 24–25. Couey usually does not count ( לֹא2015: 45–46). 44. This is Couey’s approach to the negative particle לֹאin Isa 1:3 (2015: 46). He follows Geller in his flexible treatment of monosyllabic particles (see Geller 1979: 6–8). 45. Holladay discusses the problem of ָּכלand ends up counting it as a unit (1999: 25–26). [ 44 ] Introductory Matters
long” be factored into our lineation of this verse and others like it? To what extent should “typical” ranges influence our lineation of “atypical” poems, and on what basis? The problem of lineating biblical texts based on line-length ranges is evident. If we lineate according to such ranges, we must adopt a clear rationale for what is actually constraining short and long lines. Otherwise, making lineation decisions in actual situations based on “normal” ranges or contextual factors becomes arbitrary. Furthermore, although these line length ranges might imply that the “too long”/“too short” question is a single issue (e.g., a phonological one, or a syntactic one), this is not necessarily the case. What constrains minimum line length might be different from what constrains maximum line length. Compared to biblical prose, the language of biblical poetry is terse. We hear this in short clauses, in elliptical syntax, in the paucity of so-called prose particles and narrative verb forms, and in the generally compact poetic style.46 There is a biblical poetic style (or styles)—surely related to the use of language for poetic artistry—but arguably, there is more going on with line lengths than simply poetic or terse style. Dobbs-Allsopp notes that the normal biblical line falls within a range that it “can be sung or recited comfortably within the nominal two-second capacity of working memory,” and he proposes that this memory constraint may play a role in signaling the end of lines, since longer lines would not be perceptible as rhythmic wholes (2015: 50). This hypothesis draws generally and imprecisely upon Tsur’s work in poetic rhythm in metrical traditions, as well as studies of oral poetry, and it does not stand up to cross-linguistic evidence.47 Recall from section 1.5 that Tsur is accounting for a specific phenomenon in metrical poetry: the perception of poetic rhythm, which is dependent upon the preservation of the phonetic structure of the whole line in immediate memory until the rhythmicity of the line can be resolved in relation to the metrical schema. Yet Dobbs-Allsopp does not explain what aspect of the biblical line must be constrained by immediate memory in free-rhythm poetry (in the absence of a phonological meter), nor does he consider the possibility of obligatory caesura, which is a means that metrical traditions have for achieving rhythmicity in longer lines.48 We must account for what exactly it is about the free-rhythm biblical line that is constrained by immediate memory and if or how this relates to the concept of the rhythmic whole.
46. On these aspects of the language of biblical poetry, see Cook 2008: 260–62. 47. On the problems of the two-second capacity as applied to versification, see section 7.3. 48. Additionally, music can affect the constraint of immediate memory (Tsur 2002: 81), which Dobbs-Allsopp does not acknowledge.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 45 ]
Biblical scholars share a general sense that poetic lines cannot be too short or too long. The cognitive approach of this book explores specific ways cognitive processing shapes or constrains lines. The upper and lower limits of line lengths are influenced by the part-whole processing of lines and line- groupings and the nature of the language information that must be contained in immediate memory for the mental structuring of biblical poetic lines.
2.6. BIBLICAL POETIC LINES ARE STRUCTURAL UNITS OF POEMS THAT ARE BUILT FROM ALL ASPECTS OF LANGUAGE
Thanks to Berlin’s important study (1985), it is now a commonplace that biblical parallelism is a complex phenomenon that touches all aspects of language. But Berlin was intentionally writing a book about “biblical parallelism,” not about “biblical poetry,” and for Berlin, the “constructive device” of biblical poetry is parallelism (in the broad Jakobsonian sense), not the poetic line (11). As a result, she does not address the problem of the relationship between parallelism and the poetic line. All aspects of language are indisputably important to the shapes of biblical poetry, as we have heard in the poems of Psalm 23 and Psalm 100—but what is the relationship between these various shapes or aspects of language and the (poetic) verse structure of biblical poetry? Unlike metrical poetry, biblical poetry does not structure its lines according to a phonological line template. Phonological features contribute to the aural shapes and patterns within the poems, but there are no specific phonological features that consistently account for the line’s emergence as a structural unit of biblical poetry. Might there be another distinct level or aspect of language that provides a kind of “meter” for the line of biblical poetry? No one disputes the importance of syntax for giving shape to biblical poetic lines, but O’Connor has gone further in Hebrew Verse Structure (1980/1997), proposing a syntactic “meter” that provides the line structure of biblical Hebrew verse.49
49. Technically, O’Connor refers to this “syntactic meter” as “constriction.” For O’Connor, syntactic constriction in biblical Hebrew corresponds to phonological meter in, e.g., English metrical poetry. I.e., phonological meter is the primary feature of the English verse system, whereas syntactic constriction is the primary feature of the biblical Hebrew verse system (1997: 148). Several other important syntactic studies of biblical poetry appeared within a few years of O’Connor’s ambitious 1980 study: A. Cooper 1976; Collins 1978; and Geller 1979; see also Pardee 1988. For summaries of all these syntactic approaches, see Howard 1999: 344–48. Recently, O’Connor’s syntactic approach has been revisited and furthered by Holmstedt (2019) and Krohn (2021). [ 46 ] Introductory Matters
O’Connor presents a system of syntactic constraints for the poetic line and a series of tropes that regularly occur as relationships between lines or components of lines.50 In so doing, he provides an account of biblical verse-poetry that describes both the poetic line (based in cross-cultural comparison and linguistics) and the phenomena of interrelated line-groupings (of both “parallel” and non-parallel/continuous line relationships).51 O’Connor breaks with previous biblical poetry scholarship in his rejection of both a phonological meter and the centrality of parallelism. He argues for the line as the basic structural unit of biblical poetry, logically and through cross-cultural comparison. O’Connor’s system of syntactic constraints, however, has a number of theoretical and methodological weaknesses. Perhaps the most serious problem is that the biblical Hebrew poetic line as a unit of verse structure cannot be accounted for based primarily on syntactic features. Even if the idea of a “syntactic meter” is theoretically possible, it does not fit with the textual data of biblical poetry.52 50. The line constraints are as follows (O’Connor 1997: 87): 1. No line contains more than three clause predicators. 2. No line contains fewer than one or more than four constituents. 3. No line contains fewer than two or more than five units. 4. No constituent contains more than four units. Constituents of four units occur only in lines with no clause predicator. Constituents of three units occur either alone in lines with no clause predicator, or as one of two constituents in one-clause lines. 5. No line of three clause predicators contains any dependent nominal phrases. In lines with two clause predicators, only one has dependent nominal phrases. 6. If a line contains one or more clause predicators, it contains only nominal phrases dependent on them. The final constraint is what O’Connor calls “the principle of syntactic integrity.” According to O’Connor, the principle of syntactic integrity and the constraint that no unit can stand alone as a line (constraint 3) are “two fundamental results of all previous study; neither has ever consistently been rejected” (69). I address “integrity” as a perceptual, not syntactic, phenomenon in section 7.1, and I discuss one-word lines in section 7.3. O’Connor’s six tropes that occur as syntactic relationships between lines are repetition, coloration, matching, gapping, syntactic dependency, and mixing (88). 51. On tropes of parallelism and tropes of continuity, see O’Connor 1997: 88. 52. Other problems with O’Connor’s system include the following: The syntactic constraints together describe many lines of biblical verse. However, of the sixty-four line structures produced by the system, twenty-nine are logically impossible or excluded by the system. Of the thirty-five possible line structures the constraints produce, six make up 83% of O’Connor’s corpus, and eight structures do not occur at all in the corpus (1997: 316–20). We must seriously question the usefulness of such a system for accounting for the line in biblical verse or for understanding the nature of the line. Cf. Tsur’s critique of Halle and Keyser’s notion of “metricalness,” which legitimizes verse structures that no poet uses (2012: 23). The syntactic constraints do not account for certain lines that do occur, based on clear patterning in the text (e.g., Judg 5:12, discussed in this section, and the two-line acrostic verses of Ps 119:46, 52, discussed in section 7.3). I argue in this book for lines that are longer and shorter than O’Connor’s constraints permit (section 7.3), as well as occasional lines that correspond with language shapes that compete against syntactic shapes (section 7.1).
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 47 ]
Consider the following examples, from Judges 5:12 and Deuteronomy 32:1, respectively, in which syntax does not provide the organizing structure for the lines: TEXT 2.5 ʿûrî ʿûrî dǝbôrâ Awake, awake, Deborah!
12a
בֹורה ֔ ָ עּור֙י ְּד ִ עּורי ִ֤
ʿûrî ʿûrî dabbǝrî-šîr Awake, awake, speak~a-song!
12b
י־ׁשיר ֑ ִ ֥ע ִּורי ֖ע ִּורי ַּד ְּב ִר
TEXT 2.6 haʾăzînû haššāmayim waʾădabbērâ Give-ear, O-heavens, that-I-may-speak,
1a
ַה ֲא ִ ֥זינּו ַה ָּׁש ַ ֖מיִם וַ ֲא ַד ֵ ּ֑ב ָרה
wǝtišmaʿ hāʾāreṣ ʾimrê-pî And-let-hear the-earth the-words-of~my-mouth.
1b
י־פי׃ ֽ ִ וְ ִת ְׁש ַ ֥מע ָה ָ ֖א ֶרץ ִא ְמ ֵר
In Judg 5:12a–b, the two lines are clearly structured in relation to each other.53 The correspondence of the second line to the first is based on the play of words—the phonological similarity—of “Deborah” (dǝbôrâ) and “sing a Sometimes the constraints allow for more than one possible lineation. O’Connor’s recommendation for choosing between alternate lineations is that “most lines of Hebrew verse contain one clause and either two or three constituents of two or three units. A lineation which yields lines of these constellations is preferred to other lineations” (1997: 87). This preference for dominant syntactic line-types in lineation strangely ignores the important role of context in understanding the poetic structure(s) of biblical poetry. O’Connor’s system avoids assigning perception any role in lineation (see n30, this chapter; and Geller 1982: 68–71). This produces a theoretical model that is ill equipped to address the relationships between poetic structures and poetic effects in biblical poetry. O’Connor’s system focuses on the line at the expense of the whole line-grouping (Geller 1982: 71; Pardee 1983: 301). Although O’Connor is correct in motivating the line as the basic unit of biblical Hebrew poetry, the biblical line does not exist—or in any sense possess poetic verse structure—apart from its relationships to other lines. I.e., we cannot proceed by first and independently establishing the line according to constraints and subsequently analyzing the tropes. This method does not fit the nature of biblical poetry, in which single lines are the exception (and still require a context to be perceived as lines), and line-groupings are the norm. Even the principle of syntactic integrity (constraint 6), which O’Connor considers a fundamental result of all previous biblical poetry studies, focuses on the “wholeness” of the line, rather than the “wholeness” of the line-grouping—a deeply problematic perspective for understanding the nature of biblical poetry. 53. Line 12b breaks O’Connor’s constraint 5, since it has three clause predicators and a dependent nominal phrase. Thus, O’Connor breaks the b-line into two lines, ignoring the clear phonetic correspondences (1997: 223). [ 48 ] Introductory Matters
song” (dabbǝrî-šîr). In Deut 32:1, the patterning between the lines also is not syntactic. Rather, lexical-semantic correspondences between each of the three words in the two lines account for the organization of the two lines in relation to each other.54 A model that prioritizes syntax over all other aspects of language cannot account for the diverse poetic structures of biblical poetry. It reduces the line structure of biblical poetry to syntactic shapes, producing an impoverished and unliterary understanding of biblical poetry. In biblical poetry, the line not only interacts with various linguistic shapes (as does the line in English metrical poetry); line structure actually emerges from components of any aspect of language. That is, the biblical poetic line is a structural unit built from patterned language elements that may include sounds and intonational contours, words and phrases and clauses, and even semantic correspondences and shapes.55 The line may select from these aspects individually, or it may combine them or mix them.56 Yet the biblical poetic line is not a phonological phrase, or a syntactic phrase or clause, or a semantic component; it cannot be reduced to a particular linguistic unit (or feature[s]) even if it is often coextensive with these units. The line is a “non-linguistic” unit that somehow organizes different and various aspects of language.57 Lines— the “building blocks” of biblical poetry—are constructed from all aspects of language. We cannot reduce biblical poetic “structure” to syntax or any single level of language structure, nor can we allow a form-content dichotomy to shape our approach to biblical Hebrew poetry structure.58 The Gestalt-based
54. For O’Connor, the trope of matching is limited to syntactic matching of constituent or unit structure (1997: 391). Thus, in spite of the lexical-semantic correspondences between each of the three units of the two lines of Deut 32:1, O’Connor categorizes these lines as related through “merismatic coordination” of the second unit in each line, ignoring the other correspondences as irrelevant to the verse structure (194, 377). 55. We might call these aspects “levels” of language (the traditional threefold linguistic division of phonology, syntax, and semantics), as long as it is clear that “levels” do not include both “deep” and “surface” syntactic structure. Greenstein treats “incomplete” parallelism as “complete” by resorting to deep syntactic structure (1983: 52–53) and argues for the validity of a deep-structure approach based on the phenomenon of grammatical ellipsis (1974, 1983). Ellipsis, however, does not require a generative linguistic approach. Miller-Naudé’s foundational linguistic work on ellipsis in biblical poetry does not utilize deep-structure analysis (see section 5.4, n70). Deep structure analysis is problematic from a cognitive perspective (cf. Zevit 1986: 356) as well as a literary perspective, for, as Alter says, “surely no real reader of poetry responds to a text in this way. Poetry is significant form—which is to say, its depth and precision of statement, like its beauty, inhere in the elaboration of the verbal surface. It is to particularly chosen words in a particular order that the reader responds” (2011: 270n11). 56. I demonstrated this with respect to symmetrical line-pairs in Grosser 2021: 11–15. Those examples and many others are included in the textual analyses of c hapters 4–6. 57. Cf. Fabb 2010: 3, who is, however, working within the framework of generative literary linguistics. 58. On the form-content dichotomy in biblical poetry scholarship, see ch. 3, n23.
P r e l i m i n a r y De s c r i p t i o n of B i b l i c a l V e r s e
[ 49 ]
approach to verse structure in this book accounts for how biblical poetry can be made up of lines constructed from all aspects of language but still have verse structure that is distinct from any level of language.
2.7. SUMMARY
Biblical poetry is an aural phenomenon. Even as modern readers, we must learn to hear it, to resist seeing it, and to listen for its aural shapes. These aural shapes contribute to and interact with the poetic line—a structural unit built from potentially all aspects of language. Biblical poetry is free-rhythm poetry; the lines are of variable lengths but tend to fall within certain ranges. The lines of biblical poetry emerge in patterned or organized relationships to each other, typically in small groupings of two or three lines but sometimes more. Lineation of biblical poems requires hearing not just how shapes emerge as lines but also how lines fit into line-groupings. Thus far I have unquestioningly used the term “line” for the basic unit of biblical poetry. This term comes from outside the literary context of biblical poetry and brings a considerable amount of foreign baggage with it. It is time to more critically think about and grapple with the concept of the biblical poetic “line.”
[ 50 ] Introductory Matters
CHAPTER 3
The Nature of the Biblical Hebrew Poetic Line
This short chapter is the heart of this book’s cognitive approach. The subsequent discussions of the Gestalt principles that provide the organizational potential for the biblical versification system depend on the conceptual framework of this chapter. Biblical verse-poetry, like other poetries of the world, is experienced as language in “lines.” The “line” refers to the basic unit of structure and rhythm of oral and written works composed in verse. The problem with the term “line” is that it derives from versification systems that are a good graphical and conceptual fit with “lineation.” Biblical verse-poetry, however, is not. I propose that we can redeem the term “line” for the basic structural unit of biblical verse-poetry if we conceive of biblical “lines” not as straight or parallel but as diverse segments that form shapes or figures, the line-groupings of biblical poetry. Lines of any versification system must emerge during a poem’s performance—that is, they must be realized in the subjective cognitive experience of the listener/reader. I compare biblical poetry with English metrical and free-verse poetry to show that the mental process of how the lines are realized differs in these versification systems. In biblical poetry, the poetic line emerges in the part-whole relationship of the line to the line-grouping, through the mental process of segregating lines and integrating line-groupings.
P
oetry has been aptly described as “the sound of language organized in lines” (Longenbach 2008: xi). Of English poetry, Longenbach writes, “More than meter, more than rhyme, more than images or alliteration or figurative language, line is what distinguishes our experience of poetry as poetry, rather than some other kind of writing.” The same can be said of biblical Hebrew poetry: the phenomenon of “line” distinguishes our experience of
Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0003
poetry as poetry. A lament and a psalm of praise differ in genre, but both are experienced as language organized according to the basic unit of poem structure called “line.”1 Judges 4 and 5 both recount the same incident in Israel’s history with verbal artistry, but they differ in both genre and mode of structure.2 Judges 4 is narrative prose, while Judges 5 is a song in verse, composed in “lines.” “Line” is the term that refers to the basic structural and rhythmic unit of verse-poetry across diverse cultures and languages, a unit that is the differentiating factor between prose and verse.3 Although the line operates according to different organizing frameworks in different versification systems, there seems to be a common phenomenon across the oral and written literatures of the world to which it refers. It is a distinct structural unit of verse-poetry: it overlaps with and exploits other linguistic structures found in prose and ordinary speech (such as phrases or clauses of syntax and normal intonational contours of speech), but it cannot be equated with any particular level of language or language feature. It is a cognitive “non-linguistic” unit that organizes aspects of language. Lines in some verse systems are organized according to phonological metrical templates, but this is not true of every verse system. Many verse systems of the world are not metrical.4 Regardless of whether a 1. Just as Biblical Hebrew has no word for “poetry” or “verse,” it does not preserve a native term for “line.” Other terms that have been used for this phenomenon (e.g., stich or colon) are not more appropriate. Since it is standard to speak of poetic “lines” in English-language discourse, I use the term “line” for the basic structural unit of biblical poetry. Dobbs-Allsopp, in his recent monograph on biblical poetry, discusses terminology options in detail and opts for the term “line” as well (2015: 20–29). The absence of a word for something in a language does not mean that its speakers do not grasp the concept (contra Kugel 1981: 69, who uses this argument against the concept of “biblical poetry”). On the emic/etic distinction in linguistics and anthropology, see Headland, Pike, and Harris 1990. O’Connor notes that “the distinctness of biblical poetry and prose is affirmed . . . in the imitations of biblical writing associated with the Qumran sect. The authors of the Thanksgiving Hymns . . . , the ‘noncanonical psalms’ . . . , the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice . . . and the like set out, as best they could, to write biblical poetry. In contrast, the authors of, e.g., the Temple Scroll . . . set out, as best they could to write biblical prose. Despite their varying degrees of success, their aims are plain. The boundary between poetry and prose used in modern scholarship thus has ancient precedent” (1997: 634). 2. On the distinction between genre and mode, see Brogan 1993g: 1348. 3. In metrical poetry too, the basic unit is the line, not the foot (Smith 1968: 38). 4. In addition to the nonmetrical verse of the ancient Near East (Egyptian, Sumerian, Akkadian, Ugaritic, Hebrew; see n2 in ch. 2), nonmetrical verse includes the poetry of Mongolia, many non-Islamic African traditions, and traditions of the Pacific and Australia and the Americas (Fabb 2009: 150). Unfortunately, nonmetrical verse systems have often been left out of the study of verse altogether by the widespread tendency to define verse as metrical or measured, e.g., Lotz (1960: 135) and the most recent edition of The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics (Steele 2012: 1507), but not the prior edition (Brogan 1993g: 1348). The diverse nonmetrical verse systems are too often wrongly forced into metrical molds (as is the case with biblical poetry and other traditions of the ancient Near East) or marginalized as “abnormal” in spite [ 52 ] Introductory Matters
particular verse system is metrical, the line plays a role in the perception of poetic rhythm.5 This mode of language called verse—oral or written language artfully organized into line-units—has developed in nearly every known culture, even where literary prose has not. Evidence suggests that prose literature tends to develop later than verse in the history of a culture’s literature. Thus, we cannot view prose as the “neutral ground” from which verse deviates. Prose itself is an “artificial and stylized form,” and both verse and prose are verbal arts that deviate from ordinary speech (Brogan 1993g: 1349). On the one hand, we might view verse-poetry as disrupting the normal process of communicative language, the process of recoding language from sounds to meaning: the line is a unit of structure that organizes aspects of language (e.g., accents and syllables) that “normally,” in and of themselves, are not relevant to understanding the message and are quickly recoded into meaning.6 On the other hand, given the near cultural universality of verse-poetry, there seems to be something “basic” or “normal” about language artfully organized in lines. While we in the modern world may be historically and culturally prone to viewing prose as “ordinary” and verse as “unique,” a better approach is to ask what it is that is “natural” about verbal art arranged in lines.7 This book is based on the premise that commonalities and differences between lines across languages and cultures can be profitably studied in relation to human cognitive processing constraints.8 One thing that is “natural” and
of how widespread they are, both in history and geography (consider the bias of the terminology: “metrical” vs. “nonmetrical”). Finnegan, in her work on the oral literature of Africa, describes how little researched and understood non-Islamic African prosody is (2012: 75). 5. The perception of poetic rhythm (which is not to be equated with the rhythm of speech, though the rhythm of speech may contribute to the perception of the line) depends upon the perception of the line as a group of stimuli, a perceptual whole (see section 2.4). 6. Cf. Tsur: “Quite a few (but by no means all) central poetic effects are the result of some drastic interference with, or at least delay of, the regular course of cognitive processes, and the exploitation of its effects for aesthetic purposes. In other words, the cognitive correlates of poetic processes must be described in three respects: the normal cognitive processes; some kind of modification or disturbance of these processes; and their reorganization according to different principles” (2008: 4–5). 7. Scholars and lay readers alike tend to approach the prose-verse distinction as if prose is “ordinary” and verse is “unique”; prose is most easily defined in opposition to the special features of verse (cf. Baldick 2001: 207). See further section 8.1. Some scholars have suggested that metrical verse is rhythmically closer to “ordinary” speech than prose is, and in this way have attempted to account for the earlier emergence of verse (Brogan 1993g: 1349). Tsur’s insights (2010, 2017) regarding how verse is a “natural” fit to the capacities of human processing make the historical priority of verse with respect to prose seem less surprising. 8. Where do poetic conventions like the line come from? One approach is to look for influences of one culture upon another, assuming that conventions (as well as their
N at u r e of t h e B i b l i c a l H e b r e w P o e t i c L i n e
[ 53 ]
“ordinary” about human cognition (but quite intriguing) is how humans perceive or mentally organize visual and aural shapes. The next three chapters explore how Gestalt principles of perception constrain the biblical Hebrew poetic line: that is, how the biblical verse system takes a unique and specific cultural form that fits the natural capacities of the mind, capitalizing on the normal processes of perception for the organization of verbal shapes into poetic structures. But before we can discuss the cognitive constraint of Gestalt principles in the specific context of biblical poetry, we must address an unfortunate misconception that the term “line” inherently introduces to biblical meanings and effects) are often adopted cross-culturally. But this does not account for how novel poetic inventions became conventions in the first place, or why the conventions were adopted for different systems in different languages. Another approach, which is not incompatible with the first, is formulated by D’Andrade (1981) in this way: “In the process of repeated social transmission and use, cultural programs come to take forms which have a good ‘fit’ to the natural capacities and constraints of the human information processing system” (179). Tsur (2002, 2010, 2017) argues for the validity of this latter approach and explores how cognitive processes shape and constrain literary forms. E.g., Tsur argues that the rhythmic processing of verse is constrained by the limited channel capacity of cognitive processing—i.e., the limited amount of information that a person can process at one time. (On this, see Neisser 1968.) According to Tsur, this cognitive constraint has shaped versification conventions similarly in different languages and systems. The limited channel capacity hypothesis accounts for why, in both English iambic pentameter lines as well as French, (nonbiblical) Hebrew, Hungarian, and Serbian decasyllabic lines (across languages and in significantly different metrical systems), the overwhelming majority of caesurae occur after the fourth position (of ten). In accordance with the needs of human processing, the longer of two parallel segments tends to come last (Tsur 2010: 501–2). This does not rule out conventions that do not “fit” cognitive constraints or correspond to ease of processing. E.g., Tsur discusses the “unnaturalness” of the Greek and Roman “heroic rhythm”—the dactylic hexameter, which has a foot that is the “least natural” of the frequent feet, from a cognitive perspective (2010: 516). Interestingly, the “heroic rhythm” was perceived by Aristotle as being unnatural, in the sense that it was different from ordinary spoken language: “Of the various rhythms, the heroic has dignity, but lacks the cadence of the spoken language. The iambic is the characteristic rhythm of people as they talk, so that in ordinary conversation iambic feet recur more often than any others; but in a speech we need dignity, and the hearer must be stirred from his usual self” (Rhetoric 3.8; L. Cooper 1932: 200). In this situation, Tsur concludes, “the fact that some, or many, or most conventions acquire a good fit to the natural capacities and constraints of the human brain does not exclude the existence of conventions whose fit to those capacities and constraints is poorer. Poor fit may have its own expressive value. One may even assume that poets sometimes deliberately seek out the conventions that have a poor fit, for effects which the structuralists would call ‘marked’ ” (2010: 517; see also Tsur 2002: 69–71, on “marked” and “unmarked” caesurae). That is, the “heroic rhythm” was not simply a rigid convention that prevented poets from using a more “natural” meter; rather, the “unnaturalness” of the convention was exploited for poetic effect. This does not mean that every poetic convention that conflicts with cognitive constraints is expressively “marked.” Culture- specific reasons may account for why some “unnatural” conventions become fixed; see Tsur 2002: 76. Also, poetry may employ additional devices, such as music, to recode material in a more efficient manner (81). [ 54 ] Introductory Matters
poetry discourse: the linearity of the poetic line. The biblical Hebrew poetic “line” is not “linear,” graphically or conceptually.
3.1. THE NONLINEARITY OF BIBLICAL “LINES,” GRAPHICALLY AND CONCEPTUALLY
While the phenomenal reality of poetic lines (i.e., segmented organized language units of a versification system) is nearly universal across cultures, the term “line” for these segments of poetic text introduces a graphic and conceptual framework that is not universal. “Line” is a term foreign to Biblical Hebrew that reflects a literary convention that developed in ancient Greek writing and spread to other traditions, a practice of arranging structural units of poetry in rows on the page. But the phenomenal reality of the line is distinct from (and historically precedes) its graphical indication. There are other conventions for representing “line”-units in writing in the poetries of the world, such as separating them in running text by spaces or various kinds of marks (Dobbs- Allsopp 2015: 34). Some writing traditions besides ancient Hebrew, including ancient Egyptian and early Old English, use no graphical convention at all to indicate the line (35). Although some ancient biblical manuscripts of the Dead Sea Scrolls evidence different kinds of special formats with spaces between lines or line-groupings (see excursus A in section 2.1), no consistent formatting of poetic texts developed for the corpus of biblical poetry until after the concept of “biblical Hebrew poetry” emerged through Lowth’s Lectures. Only in the twentieth century did graphic line-rows of text become standard, first in Hebrew text editions (BHK, 1905–6; O’Connor 1997: 32) and eventually in English translation (RSV, 1952; Gottwald 1962: 830). I suspect there is a good reason for the biblical manuscript tradition’s non- adoption of any consistent format for line-units until after the “discovery” of biblical poetry by Lowth—that the continuous format of most biblical poetry is not just an accident of history. The Dead Sea Scrolls’ multiple formats indicate the challenge of formatting biblical Hebrew poetry on the page: should it be formatted according to lines or line-groupings? As we saw in section 2.3, both are essential to biblical poetry. If the format indicates line-groupings, how should the variation in line-groupings of especially twos and threes be handled without producing a format with large gaps that are insignificant or wasteful (of precious parchment or leather)? In the Dead Sea Scrolls, the linear row sometimes ends up not corresponding with the line-grouping; a linear row that is a good length for a line-pair is probably not a good length for a line-triple. Some poetries are particularly well suited to a graphic one-line- per-row format, such as ancient Greek with its equally measured lines; biblical Hebrew is not, with its often irregular line-groupings and sometimes irregular line lengths. N at u r e of t h e B i b l i c a l H e b r e w P o e t i c L i n e
[ 55 ]
Furthermore, some poetries are conceptually well suited to a one-line-per- row format. In metrical poetry, listeners mentally structure the poem line by line, hearing the words in relation to the metrical line template, aided by markers that indicate when a line has come to an end. It makes sense to metaphorically view (and thus to graphically write) a metrical poetic line as a single-dimensional line of words that comes to an end, which is followed by another line that has an end, and so on: _________________________________________ _________________________________________ _________________________________________ _________________________________________ This is, of course, an oversimplification of the experience of metrical poetry (the lines do interrelate—e.g., end-rhyme contributes to larger patterns and structures, and enjambment weakens the sense of line-“ending”), but the basic conceptual framework is a decent fit. A “line” of metered poetry makes sense, and it fits a very basic organizational structure of the poem. A line of modern free verse (arising out of the metrical tradition) makes sense as well, because the visual line may provide the needed cues for how that segment of text is to be heard or performed, how the line is contoured and ends or breaks. The visual shape or representation of lines has not only arisen from our metrical poetry tradition but has subsequently influenced the nature of our verbal art in our text-based society (as demonstrated with Brooks’s “We Real Cool”; see section 2.1). This concept of “line,” however, does not fundamentally fit the nature of biblical poetry. It is not just that the conceptual framework is too simplistic: more importantly, it does not fit the structure of biblical poetry and how it is organized. Single or unintegrated lines in biblical poetry are rare; lines occur in line-groupings of typically two or three lines but sometimes more. Though the listener/reader must be able to hear each line unfold in time as a distinct segment of text, an individual line does not come to an “end” in biblical poetry—either by coming to the end of the line’s sound pattern or by coming to an end-fixing marker (section 2.2). The listener/reader cannot process the line-units line by line, one line at a time, because each line emerges in relation to the other lines in its line-grouping, not in relation to an abstract (external) line template. We can and must distinctly hear a string of words that constitutes a line, but we cannot process it as an internally organized line of biblical poetry until we begin to hear the complete organized or patterned line-grouping, which either confirms our mental shaping of the line(s) or prompts us to reorganize the language relationships (or somehow experience or resolve the complexity introduced).
[ 56 ] Introductory Matters
Following the ancient Dead Sea Scrolls formats, we might start our description of the experience of biblical poetry structure in relation to spaces, not lines: i.e., as hearing strings of words set apart by spaces created by the contours of language phrasing. But strings of words set apart by spaces does not say enough: the internal workings of the strings of words matters to the interrelationships of those word-strings. Though the word-string (line) must be distinguishable as a discrete unit, the patterned or organized line-grouping is fundamental to hearing the biblical line as a unit of structure. Consider again Psalm 100:1b–2a (from ch. 2): TEXT 3.1 hārîʿû layhwh kol-hāʾāreṣ Shout to-YHWH, all~the-earth.
1b
ל־ה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ָ יהוה ָּכ ֗ ָ ָה ִ ֥ריעּו ֜ ַל
ʿibdû ʾet-yhwh bǝśimḥâ Serve ‹o.m.›~YHWH with-joy.
2a
הו֣ה ְּב ִׂש ְמ ָ ֑חה ָ ְִע ְב ֣דּו ֶאת־י
bōʾû lǝpānāyw birnānâ Enter to-his-face with-resounding.
2b
ּ֥בֹאּו ֜ ְל ָפ ָ֗ניו ִּב ְרנָ ָנֽה׃
In this line-triple, each line can be heard and processed as a distinct clause of three words, but hearing three clauses of the same length is not the same as hearing three organized lines of biblical poetry. The second line (2a) is patterned in relation to the first (1b) through partial repetition, and the third line (2b) is patterned—differently—in relation to the second, and also to the first. Hearing the integrated patterning of the whole line-triple is what allows us to hear the clauses as poetic lines. We cannot predict the patterning; we must hear it emerge in the context of the line-grouping. Even if we adopt linear graphical writing for biblical poetry (as is now common), we cannot adopt a line-by-line conceptual approach to the biblical line, based on metrical or modern free-verse assumptions and conceptual frameworks. Biblical poetic lines do not emerge line by line. We can, however, redeem the term “line” for these word-strings in biblical poetry—sidestepping the implied “linearity”—if we introduce the idea of a figure as a conceptual framework for biblical Hebrew line-groupings. A figure is a schematized drawing, a graphic representation of a form. It is not one dimensional, but two dimensional—it has shape. It can be (nontechnically) described as being made up of lines—if we broaden our definition to include not just straight lines but also other segments like arcs or zigzags. The possibilities of a figure are endless. Yet it may look familiar as we see it being drawn, and we may even predict the outcome as we see it start to take shape. As a figure is being drawn, it can begin with a simple line.
N at u r e of t h e B i b l i c a l H e b r e w P o e t i c L i n e
[ 57 ]
Figure 3.1. Arc
Additional line(s) can be added to it to complete it:
Figure 3.2. Heart
Or, to expand it, completing it in a different way:
Figure 3.3. Three arcs put together differently
A figure being drawn unfolds sequentially, in time. The completion of the whole confirms that the parts are indeed structured as we suspected (or not). The lines may create a figure that is closed, but one would not say that the individual lines of a figure come to an “end.” A line of biblical poetry, too, does not “end,” but it is distinctly segregated, and the figure (line-grouping) of which it is a part does become complete.9 (Sometimes the completion is integrally related to more than one line- grouping.) If the “lines” become lost in the emergence of the whole figure— i.e., if the lines become overly integrated and no longer appear as distinct units—the poem disintegrates, or it slips into prose.10 If lines are successively added to a grouping but are not integrated according to any discernible patterning or organization, no figure emerges at all. Terminology is not neutral. The term “line” has predisposed us to a particular orientation of poetry, both graphically and conceptually.11 The language of “parallel lines” has further reinforced the misfitting metaphor of the linearity of lines and become a gridlock on our imaginations. We must reorient our understanding of biblical poetic “lines” from the linear perspective so common in metrical traditions to a figural perspective on how free-rhythm biblical poetic lines and line-groupings emerge in a variety of patterned and organized shapes in the hearing of biblical poetry.
3.2. THE EMERGENCE OF BIBLICAL LINES AND FIGURES IN PART-W HOLE RELATIONSHIPS
Lines of diverse verse systems, if they are to be experienced as lines, must be organized as lines in the mental processing of the listener/reader: there is no direct line-input function to the brain. Lines are not simply chunks of words separated by intervening visual or aural spaces, processed strictly as fragments of language; they have shapes or contours, and their internal workings 9. The problem with “enjambment” language in biblical poetry studies is that it presumes a line-end framework for how lines are heard and organized. It thus tends toward a disproportionate focus on the wrong thing: how one line ends and another begins, rather than how the whole figure emerges. See discussion in section 7.1. 10. This “disintegration” may be a result of inadequate performance (either the vocalized performance or the mental performance of the listener/reader), or it may be a result of the words of the text—the verbal artistry of the poet/author. For an example of the latter, see section 8.6, Ezek 27. 11. Cf. Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 22. Although I have opted to use and reconceptualize the term “line” in this book, for the sake of terminological simplicity, others may prefer new terminology that is cross-linguistically more appropriate, especially as the study of world poetries becomes less metrical-centric. Margaret Freeman (by way of personal communication) suggests that “figuration” may be an appropriate general term. “Figuration” refers to the creation of the whole and can be expressed through many different associations of features and structures (see Introduction, section I.1).
N at u r e of t h e B i b l i c a l H e b r e w P o e t i c L i n e
[ 59 ]
are arranged in certain patterned or organized ways. The experience of verse- poetry requires that the input of sounds and words and word-groupings be mentally processed by the listener/reader and organized according to a certain patterning or organization within the framework of the specific versification system. As this active mental processing takes place, the poetic line can be heard as a structural and rhythmic unit of the artfully constructed poem, with a potential for poetic effects unique to its system and context. On the one hand, I have described the verse line as a phenomenal reality: it describes something real across diverse languages and cultures in the verbal arts of the world. On the other hand, the poetic line is realized in the subjective cognitive experience of a listener/reader during a particular poetry performance (whether vocal or mental) of a particular poem, according to the constraints and workings of a particular versification system. If the mind fails to grasp the contextual shapes or contours of lines, or fails to hear the lines according to their organizing principles, the line as structural or rhythmic unit may not be heard at all, and its poetic effects may be underexperienced or even unexperienced. For example, although lineation is usually quite clear in English accentual- syllabic metrical poetry (due to demarcation on the page, measured metrical feet, and the frequent use of line-end markers), the rhythmicity of the line in English metrical poetry must be resolved in the performance experience. The stress pattern of actual words often does not precisely match the metrical template, yet these lines are somehow still heard as poetic “metrical” lines. In iambic pentameter, the patterned template is stress on even-numbered syllables and unstress of odd-numbered syllables. Tsur notes that in the first 165 lines of Milton’s Paradise Lost, there are no more than two such archetypal lines. One is found in the first of these three consecutive lines (1: 59–61; Tsur 2008: 156): At ónce as fár as Ángels kén he viéws The dísmal situátion stránge and wílde: A dúngeon hórrible, on áll sídes róund In contrast to rule-based theories to account for what deviations are allowed as metrical, Tsur shifts the focus of the metrical problem to rhythmicality: “The performer has at his disposal a wide range of performance devices, with the help of which he may render the deviant lines rhythmical. If he encounters some kind of deviation to which he has never been exposed before, he may resort to old devices, or invent new devices, exploiting the potential of his cognitive resources. The utmost limit of rhythmicality is determined by the reader’s ability or willingness to perform the verse line rhythmically. Different poets seem to have drawn this utmost limit at different points on a variety of scales of mounting complexity” (Tsur 2008: 158). Tsur goes on to describe the differing complexities of deviating lines and their performance solutions, accounting for these phenomena through the limited channel capacity hypothesis (158–64). [ 60 ] Introductory Matters
My point here is that, even if we objectively “know” what words constitute Milton’s line, if we are unable to perform or hear (i.e., mentally organize) the line’s rhythm in relation to the metrical patterning, the line will be lost on us in performance. We will not have experienced the line as a metrical poetic line. Another example comes from English free verse, the poem entitled “Poem” by William Carlos Williams. As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right forefoot carefully then the hind stepped down into the pit of the empty flowerpot When reading a free-verse poem like this one, we are compelled to ask why the poem breaks its lines and stanzas in the way it does (Vendler 2002: 83–85, 673–74). If this poem is heard or read without any line or stanza organization (“As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset . . . ”), the process of mental poetic patterning disappears, and the poem evaporates as a poem. Reading the poem as a poem requires sensitivity to particular structural features. Freeman (2020) reproduces a lineation exercise for this poem that requires students to choose the poet’s original from three different lineated versions.12 She 12. The original exercise is from Hall 1991. The two alternative lineations are as follows: (a) As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right forefoot carefully then the hind stepped down into the pit of the empty flowerpot (b) As the cat climbed over the top of the jamcloset first the right forefoot carefully then the hind stepped down into the pit of the empty flowerpot
N at u r e of t h e B i b l i c a l H e b r e w P o e t i c L i n e
[ 61 ]
observes that what students pay attention to—(a) syllable structure, (b) stanzaic arrangement, or (c) syllabic structure and stanzaic arrangement in relation to the cat’s movement (the original)—affects which version they choose (104). Each version requires a different strategic mental organization or structuring of the poem, and it results in a different experience of the poem. Verbal artistry is the work of the poet, and strategies for effective performance (vocal or mental) are the work of the performer. Yet the realm of the realization of poetic lines—the hearing of poetry as organized language—is in the mental processing of the listener/reader during the specific performance event (whether vocalized or mental). The realization of lines in the listener’s/ reader’s mental processing depends upon the listener’s/reader’s expectations for the workings of the versification system and also the listener’s/reader’s active mental cooperation in organizing the stimuli according to these constraints or principles. Even in a professional performance of Milton (where the performer has done the hard work of coming up with effective performance strategies), the listener must take an active—not a passive—role in hearing the lines as lines, as aesthetically organized units of the poem. Whether lineated on the page or not, the lines of different poetries must be realized in the listener’s/reader’s cognitive experience of the poem. You can skim a poem for semantic content, but you cannot skim a poem and expect to experience its lines and effects. The mental process of hearing a poem is shaped by the expectations of the listener/reader for the specific principles and workings of the versification system.13 Biblical poetry, like other versification systems, is organized in the mental processing of the listener/reader. The difference lies in how the line-units are realized as lines in the listener’s/ reader’s cognitive processing. In English metrical poetry, the line must be realized rhythmically in relation to an abstract metrical template. As in the example above, English metrical poetry is typically “given” to us in lines, on the page. But the verse lines must still be “heard” as rhythmical, even if they are simultaneously seen, because the words must be strategically reconciled to an abstract metrical (phonological) template of internal organization that is also “given.”14 This necessary resolution of the problem of the relationship of words to template is a shared expectation (between poet and audience) of the versification system. In modern English free verse, the line is typically “given” on the page to determine or guide the shapes and contours of the mental or actual performance. The line 13. Typically, these expectations are shared by poet and audience; they are conventions. In the modern study of ancient biblical poetry, the challenge is to bring expectations to the text that would be consistent with the ancient conventions. 14. The meter of a particular line might be disputed, even if the line is not. The listener/reader may have to discern which template the line must be heard in relation to, but in metered poetry there is still an expectation that there is a phonological template for the line. [ 62 ] Introductory Matters
format on the page is itself a shared expectation: it serves as a guide for how these lines are to be vocalized or performed, what shapes or patterns are to be brought out, drawn attention to, so that line breaks have some justification for being where they are—a problem that the reader/listener must resolve. In reading biblical free-rhythm poetry, it is imperative that we not import the foreign idea of the line’s “givenness” as an expectation. There is no “given” template by which to organize each line’s sound patterning, as in measured/metrical lines. Nor is there a “given” (or determined) line break, which provides the shapes or contours of the lines independently of (or in conjunction with) the text’s natural contours, as in some modern free-verse poetry.15 Lines in free-rhythm biblical poetry cannot be realized in these ways. The biblical line, rather, is heard as a distinct unit derived from the textual language shapes, not from a template or a boundary. The line’s internal organization emerges in relation to the words around it, contextually, as part of a line-grouping, based on the language features and shapes of the words and phrases. The line-grouping—the whole of it—provides the contextual organization by which the individual line can be organized as a line, as a distinct unit in relation to other distinct unit(s). On the one hand, biblical poetry must be heard and processed as line-by-line language: one necessarily distinguishable segment follows another in time. But biblical poetry cannot be mentally organized line by line—nor should we bring an expectation with us to the poem that it will be. The internal organization of the line can be mentally organized (and confirmed) only line-grouping by line-grouping, because the line in biblical poetry emerges in the context of the patterning or organization of the whole line-grouping.16 We can step back and analyze what features make a line a line—and we can try out different possible oral and mental performances as attempts to arrange or organize these features. But we cannot experience biblical poetry as a free-rhythm poetry in which lines emerge in relation to line- groupings if we import the foreign notion of the “givenness” of each line with respect to either its internal organization (metrical template) or its end (line break). In the experience of hearing biblical poetry, every line comes with uncertainty as to what organizing pattern(s) it will take, as in fi gures 3.1–3.3. As we saw in section 2.6, even the specific language features relevant to a particular line’s patterning are unpredictable, since these features may come from
15. Thus, the performer or interpreter of biblical poetry cannot freely choose to place “line breaks” where they create the desired (modern) effects of, e.g., rhythm and enjambment. Contrast Dobbs-Allsopp (2015: 95–177, 326–49) and Couey (2015: 24–26), who draw upon the nature of modern free-rhythm or free-verse poetry to elucidate the rhythms and lines of biblical poetry. 16. This is quite different from Lowth’s model of parallelism, in which the second line “answers” to the first (see ch. 1, n31). In biblical poetry, the second line cannot “answer” to the first, because the first line is not “given.” The first line must emerge contextually in the context of the whole line-grouping.
N at u r e of t h e B i b l i c a l H e b r e w P o e t i c L i n e
[ 63 ]
any aspect of language. But every line does come with a very specific shared expectation: the expectation that the line is emerging as a part of a patterned or organized line-grouping—a figure—by which the lines (heard as distinct strings of words) can surely (but not necessarily predictably) be organized into the figure of the line-grouping.17 This, then, is the basic principle or constraint of the free-rhythm biblical Hebrew versification system, from the orientation of the listener’s cognitive realization of the line:18 the simplicity and segregation of the line (such that the line can be heard, unfolding in time, as a distinct unit of poetry), and the integration of the line-grouping as a whole (such that the line can be somehow organized or patterned in relation to other lines, an organization that also unfolds in time). This seemingly basic constraint, however, represents a quite complex process by which lines emerge in the cognitive experience of the listener. It raises the following questions: • How does the listener pick out which language pieces or aspects are relevant to the shapes of lines and the organization of line-groupings in biblical poetry? Language presents us with many possibilities (even mixed) for line structure, or combinational potential. Few of the possible aspects of language in any given instance are actually relevant to the overall line patterning. • How can we account for the possibility, even the likelihood, that particular patterns or relationships will be heard/perceived, rather than others? How can we say with any confidence that one organization is better than another (i.e., more likely to be “a poetic line” true to the poet’s composition and the listening audience’s realization of it)? • This phenomenal reality called the line must be heard and processed quickly in the performance of aural poetry, without the ability to “see” the whole poem. How is this possible? One possibility for addressing these questions (which is inherent in some accounts of biblical poetry) is that poets have many line-types or learned structural patterns or templates at their disposal to choose from, which presumably, their audiences expect. While we can speak, to a degree, of “conventional patterns” (e.g., chiasm), this “catalogue of learned patterns” view is problematic in several ways for biblical poetry.19 First, it is neither elegant nor 17. On the important idea of emergence in perception, see Pomerantz and Cragin 2015. 18. I am presenting this principle in answer to a perception-oriented question— “How can the line be heard?”—and not in answer to a rule-based question—“ What can/can’t the poet do according to the rules of this system?” Cf. Tsur 2012: 23. 19. My cognitive approach to biblical poetry does not rule out conventional patterns (on conventions and cognitive constraints, see ch. 3, n8). For an illustration of some of the challenges involved in identifying the patterns of biblical poetry as conventions, [ 64 ] Introductory Matters
efficient: it requires a continually expanding taxonomy of line-types or kinds of parallelisms.20 Second, it does not address how the listener picks out which levels or features of language matter to the pattern.21 Third, biblical line patterns are highly contextual: a line-types model does not very well account for the contextual situatedness of patterns.22 Fourth, a line-types model cannot overcome a form-content dichotomy. As the history of biblical poetry scholarship attests (even by continually wrestling with this problem), somehow semantics must be integrated into a model of biblical verse structure.23 I am proposing, instead, that the organization of lines in biblical Hebrew poetry is achieved through a kind of part-whole processing that humans are wired to do and indeed do all the time. The mind has a number of “mental shortcuts” for processing perceptual stimuli, including visual and auditory stimuli, into patterns of integrated wholes. These mental shortcuts have been researched and formulated as Gestalt principles. Biblical poetic lines and line-groupings emerge in integrated part-whole relationships, and the cognitive constraint of Gestalt principles accounts for the ability of the listener to mentally realize the biblical Hebrew line as a distinct unit of structure that emerges in the context of an organized or patterned line-grouping. The next segment of the book (part II) explores these principles.
compare the discussions of “expanded cola” in Loewenstamm (1969, 1975) and “staircase parallelism” in Greenstein (1974, 1977). 20. For examples of descriptive taxonomies, see Alonso Schökel 1988; and Watson 2005. 21. This is an issue for Jakobson’s (and thus Berlin’s) approach to parallelism: which equivalences are perceptible, and which patterns matter to poetic structure and effects? See the discussions in Berlin 1985: 8–11; Zevit 1990; and Landy 1992. 22. For an example of contextual situatedness, see section 4.1, the discussion of Jonah 2:3 and Ps 120:1 (texts 4.2 and 4.3). On the problem of lineating based on dominant line-types, see ch. 2, n52. 23. Semantic relationships between lines are not easily typologized, but neither are they peripheral to understanding biblical poetry structure (Kugel 1981: 57–58; Alter 2011: 19–28). A. Cooper writes in the 1980s, “By now, I think most scholars recognize that Lowth’s categories of semantic parallelism have lost their heuristic value; our era prefers to see meaning as dependent upon structure (or form generating content, to put it another way), and not vice versa” (1987: 224). The problem in biblical poetry, however, is that semantic content can be line structural, though it does not have to be (see, e.g., Judg 5:25, text 5.7 in section 5.2). That is, the versification system of biblical poetry cannot be accounted for by a framework that dichotomizes form and content, as biblical scholarship is prone to do. Berlin (following Jakobson) approaches this problem through a model of equivalence and opposition, which also applies to the semantic level of language (1985: 11). I demonstrate in c hapters 4–6 that the patterning of biblical poetry is better accounted for through perceptual principles of part-whole relationships, which cannot be reduced to a binary system of equivalence and opposition (see section 8.2).
N at u r e of t h e B i b l i c a l H e b r e w P o e t i c L i n e
[ 65 ]
PART II
Gestalt Principles Emergence of Biblical Poetic Structure
CHAPTER 4
Perceptual Organization and the Law of Simplicity, Proximity and Similarity
This and the following two chapters account for how poetic structure emerges in biblical poetry, that is, how the mind can efficiently organize the aural lines and line- groupings and larger structures of biblical poetry. The focus of these chapters is on the emergence of poetic structure, but within these discussions are examples of biblical poetry’s potential for producing poetic effects. In this chapter I first introduce Gestalt perceptual theory and explain its relevance to the problem of biblical poetic structure. The problem of the free-rhythm biblical poetic line is a perceptual problem: how the line can be heard or mentally organized in the absence of a patterned template. The line and line-grouping must be heard within the constraints of part-whole organization, a kind of processing that Gestalt theory accounts for. The fundamental Gestalt law, simplicity, states that the mind reduces stimuli to the simplest forms possible. The specific properties associated with simplicity are the Gestalt principles of perception. This law and these principles account for how different human minds can organize complex stimuli in common ways, and by extension, they account for how a free-rhythm, unlineated biblical poetic text can arguably have a particular (perceivable) poetic structure. In this chapter I discuss two principles of perception, proximity and similarity. Through the principle of proximity, phonological phrasing provides the potential for line boundaries and thus line segregation in biblical poetry. In combination with proximity, similarity of various aspects of language is a force of cohesion and grouping in biblical poetry, within the line and within the line-grouping.
T
he early twentieth-century Gestalt experiments demonstrated that perception involves the mind’s organization of stimulus patterns into integrated wholes.1
1. For the foundational Gestalt studies in perception, see especially Wertheimer (1938), among other essays in Ellis (1938), and Koffka (1935). The Gestalt psychologists Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0004
As the now well-known Gestalt maxim says, the whole is different from (or greater than) the sum of its parts.2 We do not see by adding together all the small details; we see by organizing stimuli into wholes. Yet through the mind’s ability to process organized, integrated wholes, we have the capacity not only to see the big picture but also to process amazing detail. The everyday process of seeing is so normal to us that it might seem passive at times, but our minds are eminently active in the process of perceiving shapes (Arnheim 1974: 43–44). Vision is “a creative activity of the human eye. . . . Every man’s eyesight anticipates in a modest way the justly admired capacity of the artist to produce patterns that validly interpret experience by means of organized form” (46). In this sense, the eye of everyday perception and the creative eye of art are not so far apart, as Arnheim (1974) shows in his application of Gestalt psychology to the visual arts. Though the Gestalt principles were especially studied initially in relation to vision, they are also applicable in general ways to aural perception (Koffka 1935: 303; Denham and Winkler 2015). Meyer (1956) has explored their connection to music. It is not automatic from Gestalt research that the same principles can be applied to language (Tsur 2008: 133), but both Smith (1968) and Tsur demonstrate their value for understanding perceptual aspects of poetry. Hearing the aural shapes of poetry requires the “creative” ear of perception. The problem of the free-rhythm line in biblical poetry is a perceptual problem: How can the line be heard at all in the absence of a patterned template? The line is not “given” to the listener. It must be actively heard or perceived in the patterned or organized relationships of lines to line-groupings. This patterning or organization that accounts for biblical poetic line structure is not only phonological (like a meter); the line emerges from potentially any aspect of language patterning. I propose that line-perception in biblical poetry is dependent upon the part-whole processing of the line in relation to the line-grouping, and that the mind has at its disposal, from everyday perceptual processing, a number of mental shortcuts to efficiently make this part-whole integration work. Though sometimes this process seems effortless (sometimes challenged the atomism or elementalism of other contemporary approaches. For an overview of the landscape of philosophy and psychology when Gestalt psychology arose, see Palmer 2015; for more detailed descriptions, see Wagemans 2015; and Albertazzi 2015. On the continued relevance of Gestalt phenomena of perceptual organization for psychology and vision science, see Wagemans et al. 2012. 2. Pratt writes, “One phrase frequently associated with the unique properties of organized wholes was actually not used by the Gestalt psychologists, but nevertheless gave them no end of trouble: The whole is more than the sum of its parts. Many American psychologists were inclined to regard that statement as the major theme of Gestalt psychology and proceeded to attack it as the quintessence of absurdity. Köhler often said that he wished his critics would remember that what he really said was that the whole is different from the sum of the parts” (1969: 10). On the meaning of this claim, see further Pomerantz and Cragin 2015: 88–89. [ 70 ] Gestalt Principles
the shapes of lines are unmistakably obvious), this is not always the case. Furthermore, even seemingly “effortless” processing is not passive but active and dynamic (Arnheim 1974: 11; Smith 1968: 33).3 These part-whole mental shortcuts, or Gestalt principles, account for how the mind is able to structure lines and line-groupings in free-rhythm biblical poetry, according to local organization and patterning, in the absence of a template. This active mental organization of lines and line-groupings is the expectation, even the demand, placed on the listener/reader of biblical poetry.
4.1. GESTALT PART-W HOLE PERCEPTUAL ORGANIZATION
The most basic and groundbreaking concept of Gestalt perceptual theory is the idea that the whole is different from the sum of its parts. This means that the perception of a part depends on the structure of the whole, while at the same time, the whole is influenced by the nature of its parts (Arnheim 1974: 78). A part refers to a genuine part. A genuine part is not just any portion or piece of a whole; it is a section “representing a segregated subwhole within the total context” (Arnheim 1974: 78).4 The perception of a genuine part depends on the structure of the whole, or, we might say, the “part-ness” of a part depends on the context it is in. Consider the visual example of figure 4.1:
Figure 4.1. A square made up of squares
3. As we will see, the amount or kinds of effort involved in organizing lines affects the subjective experience, or effects, of the verbal art. 4. Arnheim clarifies the nature of a part with respect to art: “A truly self-contained subwhole is very hard to accommodate. . . . Good fragments are neither surprisingly
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 71 ]
A letter “T” or a pinwheel shape (figures 4.2A and 4.2B) could be described as portions of the square, but neither is a genuine part. A small square (figure 4.3) is a genuine part, because it is a segregated subwhole within the total context.
Figure 4.2A. “T” shape
Figure 4.2B. Pinwheel
complete nor distressingly incomplete; they have the particular charm of revealing unexpected merits of parts while at the same time pointing to a lost entity beyond themselves” (1974: 78). [ 72 ] Gestalt Principles
Figure 4.3. Small square: a genuine part
The structure of the whole affects what we perceive to be a segregated subwhole, that is, a genuine part. In the lines and line-groupings of biblical poetry, not just any word or phrase, or even clause, is a genuine part. A part is a part in relation to the whole structure, that is, in relation to the whole line-grouping. In Judges 5:25–26, each of the lines is a genuine part of a whole line-pair. (These lines, found in the Song of Deborah, tell how the enemy of the Israelites, a military commander named Sisera, came to his death at the hands of Jael, in whose tent he sought shelter after fleeing from defeat in battle.) TEXT 4.1 mayim šāʾal ḥālāb nātānâ (For) water he-asked, milk she-gave;
25a
ַ ֥מיִם ָׁש ַ ֖אל ָח ָל֣ב נָ ָ ֑תנָ ה
bǝsēpel ʾaddîrîm hiqrîbâ ḥemʾâ 25b in-a-bowl (for) mighty-ones, she-brought curds.
ְּב ֵ ֥ס ֶפל ַא ִּד ִ ֖ירים ִה ְק ִ ֥ר ָיבה ֶח ְמ ָ ֽאה׃
26a
יָ ָד ּ֙ה ַלּיָ ֵ ֣תד ִּת ְׁש ֔ ַל ְחנָ ה
wîmînāh lǝhalmût ʿămēlîm 26b and-her-right-hand for-a-hammer-of workmen;
ימ ָינּ֖ה ְל ַה ְל ֣מּות ֲע ֵמ ִ ֑לים ִ ִ ֽו
yādāh layyātēd tišlaḥnâ Her-hand for-the-tent-peg reached,
wǝhālǝmâ sîsǝrāʾ māḥăqâ rōʾšô 26c אׁשֹו ֔ ֹ �ֲקה ר ֣ ָ יס ָר ֙א ָמח ְ וְ ָה ְל ָ ֤מה ִ ֽס and-she-hammered Sisera, she-smote his-head, ûmāḥăṣâ wǝḥālǝpâ raqqātô and-she-struck and-pierced his-temple.
26d
ּומ ֲח ָ ֥צה וְ ָח ְל ָ ֖פה ַר ָּק ֽתֹו׃ ָ
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 73 ]
The first clause of 25a (mayim šāʾal, “water he-asked”) is not a genuine part of the whole line-pair (25a–b), because the whole of 25a–b is not structured in this way.5 Line 25a and line 25b structure the event as statements of Jael’s (deceptive) hospitality: she gave him more than he asked for (25a), and she served it in a way fit for a lord (25b). (The part-whole organization of the line- pair is semantic.) If, however, we remove line 25b from the song—changing the structure of the whole of the line-pair—the parts also change. Without 25b, 25a becomes its own whole, with two parts: mayim šāʾal (“water he- asked”) and ḥālāb nātānâ (“milk she-gave”). (In this modified version, the patterning is grammatical.) The structure of the whole determines what is a genuine part. Furthermore, the whole is influenced by the nature of the parts. The whole structure is not simply a result of adding parts together; the character or nature of the whole depends upon the parts and how they are related. We can go back to the visual example of the square (reproduced here as figure 4.4):
Figure 4.4. A square made up of squares
Even though the figure is made up of ten (four-unit) line segments, or sixteen small squares, the whole is different from (or “greater” than) either of these descriptions. The parts are structured into the whole, which itself is a square—or alternatively, four squares. The “squareness” of the figure is 5. Many commentators opt for four short lines in v. 25 (cf. BHS). Sasson (2014), however, translates v. 25 as two lines (279), also viewing this verse as a vignette of Jael’s hospitality (306–7). [ 74 ] Gestalt Principles
structurally important to the whole. Modifying a part potentially affects the character of the whole, not just that part. Taking a segment away from the figure (as in figure 4.5) does not just affect that small square that is a part: it makes the whole large square feel incomplete. We perceive a large square that is incomplete, based on the structure of the whole, not based on the fifteen little adjacent squares. But if we modify the parts as in figure 4.6, the figure has lost its “squareness.”
Figure 4.5. Structural configuration of square (incomplete)
Figure 4.6. Modified structural configuration (complete)
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 75 ]
It has a different structural configuration, which feels complete, but in a different way. In biblical poetry, the lines do not simply come together as additive or successive rhythmic chunks. While the balanced phrasing shapes of Judges 5:25 are relevant to the rhythm, they do not by themselves provide the line-structural organization. The nature and relationships of the parts (lines) influences the structure of the whole (line-grouping). This is particularly complex for biblical poetry, where all aspects of language—including semantic aspects—can potentially be organized line structurally. This means, e.g., that the meaning of the whole line- grouping is influenced by the line-structural patterning or organization of the parts in relation to each other.6 In Judg 5:25, is the song referring to one action by Jael or two: did she give Sisera milk to drink and then curds to eat, or is “curds” a reference to the milk? In 5:26a–b, is the “hand” that reached for the tent peg the same as the “right hand” that reached for the hammer, or are both the left and right hands involved in the action? In 26c–d, does Jael deliver one decisive blow or multiple strikes?7 The answers to these questions about the meaning of the whole line-grouping require an understanding of the line-structural organization of the parts and how that influences the whole. We cannot simply focus on the equivalences and contrasts of the elements (as parallelism shaped by linguistics has been prone to do).8 We will return to these questions about Judg 5:25–26 in the discussion of symmetry in section 5.2. For now, the important point is that the nature and relationships of the parts influence the whole. Another example demonstrates the contextual nature of part-whole structuring of lines and line-groupings in biblical poetry: Jonah 2:3 (ET 2:2), in comparison with the similar text of Psalm 120:1–2. TEXT 4.2 3a
אמר ֶ ֹ וַ ּ֗י
qārāʾtî miṣṣārâ lî ʾel-yhwh wayyaʿănēnî 3b I-called-out from-distress to-me9 to~YHWH, and-he-answered-me.
הו֖ה ַו�ּֽיַ ֲע ֵנ֑נִ י ָ ְאתי ִמ ָ ּ֥צ ָרה ִ ֛לי ֶאל־י ִ ָ֠ק ָר
mibbeṭen šǝʾôl šiwwaʿtî šāmaʿtā qôlî From-the-belly-of Sheol I-cried-for-help; you-heard my-voice.
קֹולי׃ ֽ ִ ִמ ֶּב ֶ֧טן ְׁש ֛אֹול ִׁשַּו ְ֖ע ִּתי ָׁש ַ ֥מ ְע ָּת
wayyōʾmer And-he-said:
3c
6. Likewise, the syntax of the whole line-grouping can be influenced by the organization of the parts, as in symmetrical line-pairs with syntactic ellipsis (e.g., Judg 5:28a–b, text 5.17, with chiastic syntactic patterning and ellipsis of the conjoined verbs). On syntactic ellipsis, see section 5.4. 7. Berlin discusses these issues from the framework of parallelism (1985: 12–16). 8. See, e.g., Berlin 1985: 12–13. 9. I.e., “from my distress.” [ 76 ] Gestalt Principles
TEXT 4.3 šîr hammaʿălôt Song-of ascents.
1a
ִׁ֗שיר ַ ֽה ַּ֫מ ֲע ֥לֹות
ʾel-yhwh baṣṣārātâ lî To~YHWH in-the-distress to-me
1b
ל־י֭הוָ ה ַּב ָּצ ָ ֣ר ָתה ִ ּ֑לי ְ ֶא
qārāʾtî wayyaʿănēnî I-called-out and-he-answered-me.
1c
אתי ַו�ּֽיַ ֲע ֵנֽנִ י׃ ִ ָ ֜ק ָ ֗ר
yhwh haṣṣîlâ napšî miśśǝpat-šeqer YHWH, deliver my-life from-lip-of~falsehood,
2a
ת־ׁש ֶקר ֑ ֶ ֽהוה ַה ִ ּ֣צ ָילה ַ ֭נ ְפ ִׁשי ִמ ְּׂש ַפ ֗ ָ ְי
millāšôn rǝmiyyâ from-tongue-of deceit!
2b
ִמ ָּל ׁ֥שֹון ְר ִמ ָּיֽה׃
The two poems begin with nearly the same five (prosodic) words (Jon 2:3b; Ps 120:1b–c); the main difference lies in how the words are ordered.10 This difference in word order makes a significant difference in phrasing shapes, as evidenced by the Masoretic cantillation markings (the shapes of which are reflected in the lineation and English punctuation). Furthermore, although the words are almost the same, how they are arranged in part-whole relationships is completely different in the two poems. The word order of the parts within the larger context affects the part-whole relationships. In Jon 2, the five words are a part of the line-pair (3b–3c). In Ps 120, the five words are the whole of the line-pair (1b–1c); Ps 120:2 begins a new line- pair. These part-whole relationships are reflected in the Masoretic verses and accentuation (i.e., the prosodic phonology). I will further discuss the line structure of Jon 2:3 (ET 2:2) in section 5.2. The point here is that the perception of a part depends upon the structure of the whole, and the whole is influenced by the nature of the parts. What makes a line in biblical poetry is dependent on these part-whole relationships, which are entirely contextual. A string of words may be a line in one poem and a line-grouping in another. But how is it that certain part-whole relationships emerge and not others? Why is it that a “square” disappeared in figure 4.5, even though just a line segment was removed? By what principles are particular parts and wholes organized—often fairly consistently for different human minds in a given context but not predictably outside of that context—from the potential chaos of sensory stimuli that our minds continually encounter?
10. Prosodic words, even if they are two lexical words, receive a single accent: ֶאל־יְ הוָ ה (ʾel-yhwh) in both poems is one prosodic word in the Masoretic Text.
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 77 ]
4.2. THE FUNDAMENTAL GESTALT LAW: SIMPLICITY
The Gestalt principles (called “laws” in the early literature) are universal cognitive principles of perception that refer to the conditions that maximize the mind’s tendency to perceive a stimulus pattern as an integrated whole. That is, the Gestalt principles account for which part-whole relationships are more likely to emerge in the human mind during perception than others. The fundamental Gestalt law is simplicity: the mind tends to impose order and organization on stimuli, reducing stimuli to the “simplest” forms possible.11 Or: “Any stimulus pattern tends to be seen in such a way that the resulting structure is as simple as the given conditions permit” (Arnheim 1974: 53). For example, four dots (figure 4.7) are construed as the points of a square (figure 4.8), not midpoints of the sides of a tilted square (figure 4.9). But if we add four more dots in between, the whole is conceived as a circle, not two squares (figure 4.10). For figure 4.10, a circle, not two squares, is the simpler form. Simplicity is a property of the structure of the whole. It is not the number of elements that makes a form simple but the structural features. The example of the squares above demonstrates this: the sixteen-square shape (figure 4.4) is simpler than
Figure 4.7. Four dots Rudolf Arnheim, Art and Visual Perception, A Psychology of the Creative Eye, p. 54, © 2004 The Regents of the University of California, by permission of the University of California Press.
11. In this book I refer to this fundamental principle as a law and the properties associated with it (e.g., proximity and similarity) as principles. The law of simplicity was introduced by Wertheimer as the law of Prägnanz and further formulated by Koffka (1935: 110). Prägnanz is typically translated “good figure” or “simplest form.” I prefer the term “simplicity” to “figural goodness” because the latter may falsely imply a value judgment. Koffka intentionally leaves the term “good” undefined and describes a number of properties that it embraces. When understanding how the principle of simplicity applies to art, we must distinguish between absolute simplicity and relative simplicity. “Relative simplicity . . . implies parsimony and orderliness whatever the level of complexity” (Arnheim 1974: 59). Great works of art can be incredibly complex but still exhibit simplicity. [ 78 ] Gestalt Principles
Figure 4.8. Four dots construed as a square Arnheim, Rudolf, Art and Visual Perception, A Psychology of the Creative Eye, p. 54, © 2004 The Regents of the University of California, by permission of the University of California Press.
Figure 4.9. Four dots are not construed as a tilted square Arnheim, Rudolf, Art and Visual Perception, A Psychology of the Creative Eye, p. 54, © 2004 The Regents of the University of California, by permission of the University of California Press.
Figure 4.10. Eight dots construed as a circle Arnheim, Rudolf, Art and Visual Perception, A Psychology of the Creative Eye, p. 54, © 2004 The Regents of the University of California, by permission of the University of California Press.
the twelve-square shape (figure 4.6), although the latter has fewer elements, because the former can be construed as a single square.12 We can return to Judges 5:25 for an example of simplicity in biblical poetry. Earlier I described the part-whole organization of Judg 5:25 as semantic (Jael’s deceptive hospitality), with two genuine parts contributing to the structure of the whole. There is another way to organize the patterning in the text, based on parallelism, as Berlin does (1985: 12).13 The following lineation highlights both the syntactic parallelism of *25a and *25b and the semantic parallelism of *25b and *25c: TEXT 4.4 mayim šāʾal (For) water he-asked,
*25a
ַ ֥מיִם ָׁש ַ ֖אל
ḥālāb nātānâ milk she-gave;
*25b
ָח ָל֣ב נָ ָ ֑תנָ ה
bǝsēpel ʾaddîrîm hiqrîbâ ḥemʾâ in-a-bowl (for) mighty-ones, she- brought curds.
*25c
ְּב ֵ ֥ס ֶפל ַא ִּד ִ ֖ירים ִה ְק ִ ֥ר ָיבה ֶח ְמ ָ ֽאה׃
One problem with this patterning is that it leaves the first part of *25c (bǝsēpel ʾaddîrîm “in a bowl for mighty ones”) unaccounted for: how does this phrase fit into the patterning of the whole? There is a much simpler organization for the entire verse, which is a two-line semantic structure of symmetry, a Gestalt principle (discussed in section 5.2, text 5.7). This simpler explanation does not deny that the first two clauses have the same syntactic structure; in fact, the syntactic shapes of the first two clauses contribute to the organization of the whole. But it is the whole of the figure that accounts for which aspects of language are relevant to the patterning of the lines and line-grouping, that is, which aspects of language are relevant to the poetic structure.14 The simplest 12. For fuller discussions of simplicity, see Arnheim 1974: 55–66; and van der Helm 2015a. 13. To be fair, Berlin’s book is about biblical parallelism, not biblical poetry (17). It is possible that she does not intend the page layout as an indication of lineation. However, her discussion of Judg 5:25 uses the syntactic equivalence of *25a and *25b and the semantic equivalence of *25b and *25c as examples of nonlinearity in poetry that sets them apart from the prose account in Judg 4:19. Most importantly, the salience of the equivalences and contrasts she proposes (in relation to the parallelism) depends upon a certain mental organization of the components of the verse, an organization that is connected to her poetic interpretation (12–13). 14. Berlin analyzes the parallelism of the verse in terms of linguistic equivalences and contrasts. “In Judg 5:25 . . . the contrast between water and milk is unmistakable because the clauses in which they occur are exactly parallel syntactically (even in the order of the components), and there is an inherent semantic contrast in asked and gave and a morphological contrast in the gender of he asked // she gave. This forces [ 80 ] Gestalt Principles
way to process the whole is as one symmetrical semantic shape, not as two different patterns of “parallelism.”15 Gestalt research has produced a number of properties associated with simplicity, called Gestalt principles. For the remainder of this chapter and the next two chapters, I discuss a number of Gestalt concepts that are important for the perceived structure of biblical poetic lines and line-groupings. Five of them are typically referred to as “Gestalt principles”: proximity, similarity, symmetry, good continuation, and closure. The other concepts, leveling/ sharpening (explored in relation to balance and imbalance) and requiredness, are drawn from Gestalt research and its application to the arts. These principles or concepts have broader ramifications, but the initial focus of the discussion of each is on two related perceptual aspects of biblical poetry structure: the process of segregation of lines as parts, and the process of organizing them in relation to each other in part-whole relationships of lines to line-groupings.
4.3. THE PRINCIPLE OF PROXIMITY
The conceptualization of biblical poetic structural units as groups of words separated by spaces seems to be reflected in some of the manuscript traditions the contrast between water and milk into the mind of the reader; not only are the two nouns parallel in the sense that they come from the same morphological class, but they take on a semantic contrast as well. I.e., they involve semantic effects” (1985: 12). The basic problem here is a kind of elementalism that focuses on identifying equivalences and contrasts and trying to make sense of them in the context of “parallelism” rather than in the context of the part-whole organization of lines and line-groupings. These equivalences/contrasts are simply data if they are not processed in relation to the whole. In what way is the morphological contrast in gender of he asked // she gave prominent and meaningful? Only the whole can provide the context that determines which organizational features and relationships stand out. 15. To further demonstrate organization of the figure in a way that goes against the simplicity of the whole, we can arrange the lines in this way, against the shapes of the major Masoretic phrases: mayim šāʾal (For) water he-asked, ḥālāb nātānâ bǝsēpel ʾaddîrîm milk she-gave in-a-bowl (for) mighty-ones, hiqrîbâ ḥemʾâ she-brought curds.
**25a
ַ ֥מיִם ָׁש ַ ֖אל
**25b
ָח ָל֣ב נָ ָ ֑תנָ ה ְּב ֵ ֥ס ֶפל ַא ִּד ִ ֖ירים
**25c
ִה ְק ִ ֥ר ָיבה ֶח ְמ ָ ֽאה׃
In this arrangement, **25b continues the pattern begun by **25a (O V), and expands it (with a PP). But **25c relates in no meaningful way to this expansion. **25c is similar in meaning to the first half of **25b, but it is different in syntactic patterning (V O) from both **25a and **25b. There is no simple or meaningful patterning of the whole that emerges, and as a result, the figure does not feel complete or whole.
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 81 ]
preserved in the Dead Sea Scrolls (see excursus A in section 2.1). The concept is simple: the manuscript spaces create groupings of words that belong together, either lines or line-groupings. It is a visual representation, in the textual layout, of the principle of proximity. The Gestalt principle of proximity states that stimuli near each other tend to be grouped together. It can be represented visually by dots, as in (a), or aurally by sounds, as in (b) (Wertheimer 1938: 74): (a) ••• ••• ••• ••• (b) tap tap tap (pause) tap tap tap (pause) tap tap tap (pause) tap tap tap Both (a) and (b) are perceived as four groupings of stimuli. The idea that poetic lines are strings of words separated by oral pauses is not uncommon.16 Pause in performance at the ends of poetic lines in many traditions (whether silence or prolongation of sound) may aid the listener in grouping words together correctly to form lines.17 But pause in language is not exclusively a strategy of poetic performance. In everyday speech, pauses effect auditory groupings that facilitate language processing. While some pauses depend solely on performance factors (such as rate or style of speech), other pauses are related to the grammar (Nespor and Vogel 1986: 188, 193– 96, 219n2). Cross-linguistically, certain syntactic constructions tend to be set apart from their context by pauses. These include parenthetical expressions, nonrestrictive relative clauses, tag questions, vocatives, certain moved elements, and items within lists (188, 201). Pauses also tend to occur at clause divisions or after noun phrases, though less predictably (197–99). Biblical poetry can exploit the pauses of syntax for line boundaries. Pause, however, is not the only way to achieve phonological “space.” Phonological space also occurs in more subtle and complex ways due to phrasing. Both pause and phrasing belong to the aspect of language studied as prosodic phonology (not to be confused with poetic prosody, which refers to poetic versification). “While some phonologists have proposed that phonological rules apply directly to syntactic structure . . . , a more common view is that the relationship between phonology and syntactic structure is mediated by prosodic representation” (Dresher 2013: 289). That is, syntax alone cannot account for prosodic phenomena like pause and phrasing. There are rules of phrasing that operate within the domains of a cross-linguistic prosodic hierarchy, which may or may not correspond with syntactic structure. Just as biblical poetry exploits the shapes of syntax and sounds that occur 16. See, e.g., Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 124, who describes the line as a perceptual unit “set off in oral performance by pauses.” 17. On end-marking in performance and the Masoretic so-called pausal forms in biblical poetry, see ch. 2, n21. [ 82 ] Gestalt Principles
in “everyday” language, it exploits the phonological phrasings of “everyday” language to form its lines. Biblical poetry is dependent upon these shapes of language for line structure because it does not rely on an external template. As a result, biblical poetry is more restrictive than many other versification systems with regard to where line boundaries can occur. Ancient Greek metered lines, for example, were not uncommonly divided mid-word. Biblical lines, to a significant degree, must follow the phrasings of the Hebrew language. What this means for biblical poetry is that the pauses and phrasings of “everyday” language provide the potential “spaces” needed for line segregation.18 This does not mean that every “space” (the end of every phrase) is a line-end. Poetic prosody (lineation) in biblical Hebrew cannot be equated with or reduced to phonological prosody any more than it can be equated with or reduced to the shapes of any other level of language. Nor does it mean that the “biggest spaces” (i.e., the major phrase boundaries) necessarily segregate poetic lines— that “smaller spaces” of minor phrase boundaries cannot be exploited. Rather, space resulting from phrasing creates the potential for line boundaries. The most important tool we have for understanding the phonological phrasing of Biblical Hebrew, and thus for understanding the potential for perceptual space between poetic words, is the Tiberian Masoretic accentual/cantillation system.19 The ancient biblical texts, like modern scrolls for liturgical reading, had only consonants. To preserve the oral/aural reading tradition of their day, scholars called Masoretes developed and standardized a system of 18. When I speak of “space” in the context of language phrasing, I am referring to the perceptual spaces that may or may not have an auditory reality. Experiments have shown that listeners may perceive pauses at syntactic boundaries even if acoustical pauses are not there. See Slobin 1971: 25–26; and the discussion in Tsur 2008: 133– 34. In prosodic phonology, there are phonological rules that operate at the different levels of the prosodic hierarchy, at particular levels of phrasing (Dresher 2013: 289). At a phonological level that can be realized phonetically, these phrases are perceived as prosodic phonological units. 19. Several scholars have argued for colometry of biblical poetic texts based on the Masoretic accentual system (de Hoop 2000a and 2000b; Renz 2003; Park 2013) or pausal forms (Revell 1981; Sanders 2003). Also of note is DeCaen’s 2009 study, in which he proposes a generative-metrical system based on the prosodic phonological structure of the Tiberian system in Ps 111. While certain disjunctive accents often occur at line-ends, the most that can be said based on textual analysis is that these are tendencies, not rules for lineation. See, e.g., Revell (2004), commenting on Paul Sanders’s thesis 2 (pericope.net), which states, “Only if a distinctive Masoretic accent is preceded by a weaker distinctive accent . . . , the Masoretes assumed the end of a colon after the word bearing the stronger distinctive accent” (1). Revell notes that the thesis would alter the usual understanding of the colon—changing, e.g., the usual colometry of some of the verses in Ps 119. He suggests that the thesis represents at best “a general rule” (2). Notarius (2018) argues, based on the corpus of Pss 1–15, that the system of cantillation for the Three Books (Psalms, Job, Proverbs) is sensitive to poetic segmentation (the line) and also responsive to syntactic segmentation. She provides examples of the cantillation system following the syntactic segmentation if the syntax strongly competes with versification.
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 83 ]
detailed vocalization markings between the seventh and tenth centuries ce.20 These markings (Hebrew טעמים, ṭeʿamim, from ṭaʿam, “sense”) constitute a meticulously transcribed prosodic orthography for communicating the “sense” of the text in oral reading (Pitcher 2020: 97). They are referred to as accents because they are placed so as to mark the stress of a word, and they are called cantillation marks because they also indicate the melodies for liturgical cantillation. The markings indicate phrasing as well, and Dresher has argued that a prosodic approach to the accents best accounts for how they indicate both semantic and syntactic “sense,” while at the same time deviating in important ways from syntax (1994: 6–8, 48–49). This “sense” is brought out through the cantillation traditions, which correspond musically to actual speech intonational patterns. The accentual/cantillation system serves the text, not the other way around (see further Dresher 2008). Pitcher (2020; forthcoming) has provided a more comprehensive and robust account of how the Tiberian Masoretic markings (ṭeʿamim) represent a prosodic phonology system.21 Viewing the Tiberian accents as evidence for the phrasing of the biblical texts does not mean that the Masoretic Text always preserves the original ancient “sense” of the text. Rather, it acknowledges that the Masoretic accentuation carefully preserves the prosodic phonological “sense” of a very old reading tradition codified in a meticulously detailed system. This does not prove that the Masoretic phrasing functions as the ancient phrasing did, but it would be imprudent to completely ignore it. Especially significant for understanding phrasing in relation to potential line boundaries are the conjunctive and disjunctive accents. Every prosodic word in Tiberian Hebrew (i.e., an orthographic word, or two orthographic words connected by a maqqef/hyphen) has either a conjunctive or disjunctive accent. Conjunctive accents join words into phrases; disjunctive accents end phrases. Intermediate (minor) phrases end with disjunctives that indicate minor phrase boundary tones, and these smaller phrases are embedded in larger (major) phrases, or intonational phrases, that end with disjunctives that indicate major phrase boundary tones.22 For example, here is the beginning of Psalm 1:1, with the minor
20. On the dating of the work of the Masoretes, see Dotan 2007: 613–14. There were three schools of Masoretes: Palestinian, Babylonian, and Tiberian. The Tiberian system became dominant, and it is used in printed Hebrew Bibles today. On the features of the Tiberian reading tradition that reflect a much older living language tradition of Hebrew, see Joosten 2015: 25–26. 21. The Law of Continuous Dichotomy (LCD) has provided the dominant framework for the Masoretic accents since the 19th century. While Dresher 1994 establishes a prosodic basis for the accents, his work still adheres to the pretheoretical framework of the LCD. Pitcher’s work makes a complete departure from the LCD in describing the ṭeʿamim within the modern linguistic framework of prosodic phonology as a prosodic system that integrates melody, stress, segmentation, and meaning. 22. This terminology for the two levels of phrases in the cross-linguistic prosodic hierarchy is from Pitcher 2020; see also Pitcher forthcoming. Dresher accounts for the [ 84 ] Gestalt Principles
phrases indicated by parentheses in transliteration and translation and the ends of major phrases indicated by a vertical line: י־ה ִ֗איׁש ֲא ֶ ׁ֤שר׀ ֥ל ֹא ָה ַל ְ֘ך ַּב ֲע ַצ֪ת ְר ָׁ֫ש ִ ֥עים ָ ַ ֥א ְ ֽׁש ֵר (ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš)| (ʾăšer) (lōʾ hālak) (baʿăṣat rǝšāʿîm)| (Happy~the-man)| (who) (does-not walk) (in-counsel-of wicked)| The words that do not end phrases are marked with conjunctive accents; the words at the ends of phrases are marked with disjunctive accents. Phrasing in Tiberian Hebrew, as in other languages, depends on the context: it is sensitive to the number of words in a phrase and also the length of words (Dresher 2013: 292). For example, in some contexts, lōʾ (“not”) is joined with a maqqef (hyphen) to the verb it negates, which results in one prosodic word. In Ps 1:1, lōʾ (“not”) is itself a prosodic word, and it forms a phrase with its verb (hālak, “walk”). The relative marker ʾăšer (“who”) is not part of that phrase. For contrast, consider Psalm 66:20: א־ה ִ֨סיר ְּת ִפ ָּל ִ ֥תי ְ ֜ו ַח ְס ּ֗דֹו ֵמ ִא ִ ּֽתי׃ ֵ ֹ ֹלהים ֲא ֶ ׁ֥שר ֽל ֑ ִ ָּב ֥רּוְך ֱא (bārûk ʾĕlōhîm)| (ʾăšer lōʾ-hēsîr tǝpillātî wǝḥasdô) (mēʾittî)| (Blessed-be God,)| (who has-not~turned my-prayer and-his-loyal-love) (from-with-me.)| Here, lōʾ (“not”) is not a prosodic word; it is joined to its verb (hēsîr, “has turned”) with a maqqef (hyphen). The word ăšer (“who”) is part of the minor phrase that includes the verb. Biblical poetry is an aural phenomenon; the more we attune ourselves to the phonological contours of the language, the more likely we are to hear its shapes and rhythms. I am proposing that the question of where a line can “end” is a perceptual question of how the line boundary can be heard. Line segregation is made possible through the “spaces” created in prosodic phonological phrasing, which is related to syntax but is not to be equated with it. Phrasing is a contextual phenomenon; what creates “space” in one context may not do so in another.23 Not every phrase is a line, but phrasing—by the principle of proximity—provides the potential for line boundaries in biblical poetry.24 Biblical line boundaries often correspond with major phrase phrase level of the prosodic hierarchy differently and views the Tiberian system as deficient (2013: 289). 23. Contrast Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 330, 507, who problematically allows for severely enjambed lines in Ps 133 based on where lines break syntactically in Lamentations (according to his analysis, which is influenced by a long-short rhythmic expectation). 24. As we will see, the importance of phrasing for the figures of biblical poetry extends far beyond simply the potential for line boundaries. E.g., phrasing can provide
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 85 ]
boundaries, but sometimes they correspond with minor phrase boundaries. It is unexpected that a line boundary would coincide with a conjunctive accent (i.e., a word that is mid-phrase), since such a boundary is unlikely to be perceivable in biblical poetry.25 Potential boundaries are essential for understanding biblical poetic lines, but they cannot by themselves give us lines. “The shape of an object is determined not only by its boundaries” (Arnheim 1974: 47). We must move on to principles affecting the internal workings of lines in order to analyze actual lines.
4.4. THE PRINCIPLE OF SIMILARITY
The principle of similarity states that stimuli that are similar to each other tend to be grouped together (Wertheimer 1938: 75; the following examples are modified from 75–78). It can be demonstrated with the following equidistant dots (figure 4.11):
Figure 4.11. Equidistant dots: grouping by similarity
The principles of proximity and similarity in the same set of stimuli may cooperate to strengthen groupings, as in figure 4.12:
Figure 4.12. Proximity and similarity in cooperation
the components of symmetry (section 5.2), and it provides the phonetic surface structure by which syntactic symmetry can be organized (see ch. 5, n137, the discussion of Ps 13:6). Phrasing is also intricately related to the perception of balance (section 5.5) and the perception of rhythm, both movement within a line and movement within a line-grouping (section 7.2). 25. Although I do not know of any line boundary that corresponds with a conjunctive accent in biblical poetry, one possibility for the perceivability of such a line boundary is [ 86 ] Gestalt Principles
Or, the principles may be set in opposition, as in figure 4.13:
Figure 4.13. Proximity and similarity in opposition
In figure 4.13, it is not clear whether proximity or similarity is dominant. Sometimes one principle will dominate over the other; in the following example (figure 4.14), similarity dominates over proximity:
Figure 4.14. Grouping by similarity dominates over proximity
The principle of similarity, usually in cooperation with proximity, is a force of cohesion and grouping in biblical poetry, and it works at the levels of both the line and the line-grouping (as well as higher levels of poetic structure).26 Biblical scholars have tended to view line-internal similarity of sounds as poetic embellishment, without structural function.27 But the cohesive force of similarity has the potential to draw together adjacent words into lines, influencing the segregation of parts in the part-whole structuring of lines.28 Consider the following example from Deuteronomy 32:10:
through phonological lengthening as a result of stress, which occasionally occurs with words with conjunctive accents (see the discussion of so-called pausal forms in Pitcher 2020: 226–39; and forthcoming). See Revell (2015) for a discussion of so-called pausal forms and a comprehensive list of the disjunctive and conjunctive accents that mark them. I thank Sophia Pitcher for this insight, by way of personal communication. 26. Similarity is a perceptual grouping principle; it is not to be confused with the idea of “equivalence” in language, though similarities may be related to equivalences. Berlin, drawing upon Jakobson’s view of the poetic function and Waugh’s explication of it, discusses parallelism as a phenomenon of equivalence, within which there is an opposition (1985: 11). I am proposing a very different model for approaching language organization in poetry. There is no opposition necessarily implicit in the perceptual principle of similarity. 27. See, e.g., Segert 1992: 172; Berlin 2002: 3; and Hrushovski 2007: 599. Contrast, however, Watson 2005: 227–28; and Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 70–73. Borrowing from Wheelock (1978), Watson proposes that the “principal function of alliteration is cohesive in nature, binding together the components of line, strophe, stanza or poem” (2005: 227). He does not demonstrate how Wheelock’s study of alliteration in Dante can be directly applied to biblical poetry, however. 28. Compare the alliterative meter of Old English verse (e.g., Beowulf), in which alliteration usually binds three, or at least two, of the four stressed syllables in the line (Adams 1993: 37).
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 87 ]
TEXT 4.5 yimṣāʾēhû bǝʾereṣ midbār He-found-him in-a-land wilderness,29
10a
הּו ְּב ֶ ֣א ֶרץ ִמ ְד ָּ֔בר ֙ יִמ ָצ ֵ֙א ְ
ûbǝtōhû yǝlēl yǝšīmōn and-in-emptiness, howling desert.
10b
מן ֹ ֑ תהּו יְ ֵל֣ל יְ ִׁש ֹ ֖ ּוב ְ
yǝsōbǝbenhû yǝbônǝnēhû He-encircled-him, he-took-care-of-him,
10c
הּו ֣יְבֹונְ ֵ֔נהּו ֙ ְיְ ֽסֹ ְב ֶ֙בנ
yiṣṣǝrenhû kǝʾîšôn ʿênô he-guarded-him as-the-pupil-of his-eye.
10d
יׁשֹון ֵעינֽ ֹו׃ ֥ יִ ְּצ ֶ ֖רנְ הּו ְּכ ִא
In 10c, the similar sounds of the words draw the verbs of the two-word phrase together. These sound similarities are due to both syllable structure (resulting from the poel and polel verb forms) and repetition of phonemes (the energic nun in yǝsōbǝbenhû is repeated by the doubled nun in the verbal root of yǝbô nǝnēhû). They are phonological similarities that overlap with but do not simply correspond to morphological equivalences.30 We can compare a modified version of the line-pair in which the verbs are ordered differently:31 TEXT 4.6 yǝsōbǝbenhû yiṣṣǝrenhû He-encircled-him, he-guarded-him,
*10c
יְ ס ְֹב ֶבנְ הּו יִ ְּצ ֶרנְ הּו
yǝbônǝnēhû kǝʾîšôn ʿênô he-took-care-of-him as-the-pupil-of his-eye.
*10d
יְבֹונְ נֵ הּו ְּכ ִאיׁשֹון ֵעינֹו׃
In the modified version of *10c, the repetition of sounds of the repeated word ending (-enhû) stands out, but the phonological cohesion of yǝsōbǝbenhû (“he encircled him”) and yǝbônǝnēhû (“he took care of him”) is essentially lost.32 The 29. I.e., “in a wilderness land.” 30. The three verbs of 10c–d each show up here in uncommon forms. The first and third verbs (yǝsōbǝbenhû and yiṣṣǝrenhû) have the unassimilated energic nun (on the rare occurrence of these forms, see GKC §58i–k). The second verb (yǝbônǝnēhû) occurs frequently in other stems, but only here in the polel (perhaps with a resultative nuance). These special forms produce the sound components that contribute to the structure of the lines/line-pair. 31. The reordered text produces a non-standard locution in *10d. The point I am making is not what options the poet had in arranging these particular words but how different arrangements of these phonological similarities affect the mental organization of the patterns. 32. Contrast the original word order, in which the phonological similarities in close proximity (yǝsōbǝbenhû yǝbônǝnēhû) create a cohesion (not a morphological structural pattern) in 10c that only partially corresponds with morphology, while the morphological (structural) similarities of the line-initial words (yǝsōbǝbenhû, yiṣṣǝrenhû) create a line-initial pattern based on similarity. (Line-initial similarity is discussed later in this section.) [ 88 ] Gestalt Principles
phonological/morphological patterning within the phrase of *10c interferes with the potential phonological cohesion of yǝsōbǝbenhû (“he encircled him”) and yǝbônǝnēhû (“he took care of him”), since they are separated by yiṣṣǝrenhû (“he guarded him”) as well as a phrase boundary. The original line 10c exploits the similarity and proximity of sounds of the two verbs for line-internal cohesion, as well as the phrasal “space” after the second verb for a line boundary. The cohesion of words in this example is perceptible even to those who do not know the Hebrew language, because the auditory processing of the sounds is prior to further language processing. The cohesion of the words based on sounds might even seem automatic or effortless, but that is because our minds are wired to actively organize in perception. The line structure exploits this natural tendency. As another example of similarity and proximity in line structuring, consider Isaiah 24:17 (cf. Jer 48:43): TEXT 4.7 paḥad wāpaḥat wāpāḥ Terror and-pit and-trap
17a
ַ ּ֥פ ַחד וָ ַ ֖פ ַחת וָ ָ ֑פח
ʿālêkā yôšēb hāʾāreṣ (are) upon-you, inhabitant-of the-earth!
17b
יֹוׁשב ָה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ֥ ֵ ָע ֶל֖יָך
In the pre-anaptyxis stage of ancient Hebrew, the first line would be shaped like this: *paḥd wāpaḥt wāpāḥ, with even more similarity in syllable structure than in the Masoretic Text. Similarity of sounds can be used for semantic word-play, and this verse is certainly doing that (see the next verse in the passage, 24:18). But the word choice here also affects the part-whole groupings of the lines. The two major phrase boundaries (according to the Masoretic accents) produce two three-word phrases; the minor phrase boundaries create the smaller phrases: (paḥad wāpaḥat) (wāpāḥ)| (ʿālêkā) (yôšēb hāʾāreṣ)| (Terror and-pit) (and-trap)| (upon-you) (inhabitant-of the-earth)| Syntactically, this may seem surprising. We might expect the major phrase boundary not to separate subject and predicate, but to set apart the vocative. The NJPS, for example, translates with a relative clause instead of a vocative, conforming the syntax (of English) to the prosodic shape: “Terror, and pit, and trap /Upon you who dwell on earth!” I do not think it is necessary to alter the normal understanding of the Hebrew syntax here. Rather, the similarity of sounds in the first three words draws the three words together as a line (and as a prosodic phrase), creating a strong shape that competes with the different strong shape of syntax. It creates two overlapping shapes that we can schematize as follows (from left to right), where each circle represents a word
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 89 ]
(the first three sharing sound similarity) and the space represents the largest syntactic boundary:
●●●○ ○○
This degree of mismatch between syntax and line is not common in biblical poetry. The potential effect of dissonance in the verse is consistent with the larger unsettling context. As in Deuteronomy 32:10 (text 4.5), the strong shape of the first three words in the verse is created through language features of sound. Similarity and proximity of sounds strengthens the shape of the three-noun grouping, affecting both the prosodic phonology (reflected by the Masoretic phrasing) and the line structure. In the preceding two examples, we looked at how similarity of sounds affects the cohesion of the line and its segregation as a distinct unit. This is not to say that other aspects of language have no effect on grouping due to similarity. Consider Job 3:26: TEXT 4.8 lōʾ šālawtî wǝlōʾ šāqaṭtî wǝlōʾ-nāḥǝtî Not I-am-at-ease, and-not I-am-quiet, and-not~I-rest,
26a
א־נ ְח ִּתי ָ֗ ֹ �ָק ְט ִּתי ְ ֽול ֥ ַ ֤ל ֹא ָׁש ַ ֙לוְ ִּתי׀ וְ ֖ל ֹא ׁש
wayyābōʾ rōgez and-comes turmoil.
26b
וַ ָּי֥בֹא ֽר ֹגֶ ז׃
Probably because of the imbalance of these lines in a poetic speech of balanced line-pairs, some translations divide the line-pair after šāqaṭtî (“I am quiet) (e.g., RSV, NRSV). But a balanced line-pair reflects neither the shapes of the Masoretic phrasing nor the shapes created by similarity. (On the imbalance of the verse and its role in closure, see 6.2, text 6.14.) The first three verbs can be grouped together—and distinguished from the clause that follows—based on a number of similarities: the repetition of lōʾ (“not”), the perfect verbs with their repeated first-person (-tî) endings, and the lexical semantics of the three verbs.33 Some of these similarities can be heard in the sounds, but not to the extent of the previous examples. The syntactic and semantic processing of the clauses contributes to the grouping by similarity. Thus far we have looked at how cohesive similarities contribute to the shapes of lines, especially through sounds but also through morphology, syntax, and semantics. In each of the examples above, similarity of sounds draws together
33. Although the first two verbs are more similar in sounds (initial consonant and syllable structure) than the first three verbs are, in the context of the whole verse, the third verb is more similar in multiple ways to the first two than to the final verb. [ 90 ] Gestalt Principles
words in the same grammatical class. Similarity of sounds, however, can function cohesively in biblical poetry to influence line shapes even in the absence of these grammatical equivalences. Consider Jonah 2:4–5 (ET 2:3–4): TEXT 4.9 wattašlîkēnî mǝṣûlâ You-cast-me the-deep,34
4a
צּול ֙ה ָ וַ ַּת ְׁש ִל ֵיכ֤נִ י ְמ
bilbab yammîm into-heart-of seas,
4b
יַּמים ִ֔ ִּב ְל ַ ֣בב
wǝnāhār yǝsōbǝbēnî and-sea-current surrounded-me.
4c
וְ נָ ָ ֖הר יְ ס ְֹב ֵ ֑בנִ י
kol-mišbārêkā wǝgallêkā All~your-breakers and-your-waves
4d
ל־מ ְׁש ָּב ֶ ֥ריָך וְ גַ ֶּל֖יָך ִ ָּכ
ʿālay ʿābārû over-me passed.
4e
ָע ַ ֥לי ָע ָ ֽברּו׃
waʾănî ʾāmartî And-I said:
5a
וַ ֲא ִנ֣י ָא ַ֔מ ְר ִּתי
nigraštî minneged ʿênêkā “I-have-been-driven from-before your-eyes.
5b
נִ גְ ַ ֖ר ְׁש ִּתי ִמ ֶּנ�֣גֶ ד ֵע ֶינ֑יָך
ʾak ʾôsîp lǝhabbîṭ Yet may-I-continue to-look35
5c
אֹוסיף ְל ַה ִּ֔ביט ֣ ִ ַ ֚אְך
ʾel-hêkal qodšekā to~temple-of your-holiness?”
5d
ל־ה ַיכ֖ל ָק ְד ֶ ֽׁשָך׃ ֵ ֶא
The Masoretic verses represent the semantic shapes of the text: v. 4 describes Jonah’s situation, v. 5 his response. Verse 4 does not divide neatly into “parallel” lines or regular rhythms. Scholars have tended to excise either mǝṣûlâ (“deep”) or bilbab yammîm (“into heart of seas”) as a gloss (thus BHS).36 But the “problem” of v. 4 is precisely the character of the poem: it resists the stability and balance of symmetrical line-pairs. This instability is in the context of a prophet drowning in a swirling sea! Lines 4a–4c resist a neat, organized arrangement; they are simply three two-word phrases created by the contours of prosodic language, three parts of a grammatical whole.37 The poem continues 34. The noun mǝṣûlâ, “deep,” is functioning as an adverbial accusative, with the sense of “into the deep.” 35. The meaning of this line is highly contested; see ch. 6, n27. 36. The emendations result in a 3:2 or 2:2 meter. Sasson, however, observes that the images are complementary and not necessarily equivalent, and both expressions are preserved in the versions (1990: 175). 37. Notice that in 4a, mǝṣûlâ (“the deep”) could easily include the preposition b- (“into”), like bilbab (“into heart of”) in 4b. This would more closely integrate the two
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 91 ]
its flowing but choppy shapes, following the line-triple with a line-pair (4d– 4e). These two lines are also created by the phrasing shapes of the text: the two phrases, though part of the same clause, are separated by the intrusion of the preposition ʿālay (“over me”) between the subject and the verb (atypical word order in both Hebrew and English). Furthermore, beginning in 4d, the shapes of four consecutive phrases/lines are strengthened by the similarity of sounds within them. I have noted the sound similarities in bold: d 4 4e 5a 5b
kol-mišbārêkā wǝgallêkā ʿālay ʿābārû waʾănî ʾāmartî nigrashti *minnigd ‘eyneka (* =pre-anaptyxis form)
In 4d, the absence of a second kol/“all” (the first does double duty), increases the integration of the line,38 and the absence of a second kol/“all” also serves to bring the similar sounds closer together (compare *kol-mišbārêkā wǝkol- gallêkā).39 The sound similarities I include involve similarities of both phoneme and syllable structure, as well as consonants that likely shared multiple features (4d: r/l; 5a: n/m; 5b: g/k). This raises an important question: How do we assess potential sound similarities in biblical Hebrew poetry? The first challenge is that we cannot be certain about the phoneme that every consonant represented in ancient Hebrew (e.g., in the case of historical sound mergers), and we can be even less certain about the vowel phonemes (which are only sparsely represented by letters in the consonantal text). The second challenge is how to assess which sounds would have been perceived as similar. Just because consonants or vowels represent phonemes with shared phonetic features does not mean that they were perceived as similar by native speakers in a given context. In this book, I take a fairly conservative approach to sound similarities. I prioritize consonantal repetition, especially in similar syllabic structures. Only secondarily do I include repetition of vowel phonemes. With regard to different consonantal phonemes that share multiple phonetic features, I typically consider
lines. But the line-triple resists the integration of these two parts as a subwhole, preserving instead the integration of the three-part whole. On integration, see section 7.1. 38. The symmetrical structure *kol-mišbārêkā wǝkol-gallêkā is a less integrated line than the actual text, because it can subdivide into two segments with matching grammatical structures. 39. Because of the sound similarities brought out by the juxtaposition of mišbārêkā wǝgallêkā, the first word of the line can also be heard (retrospectively, within the constraint of immediate memory on preservation of phonetic information; see section 7.3) as integrated into these sound similarities: kol-mišbārêkā wǝgallêkā. [ 92 ] Gestalt Principles
these only in the context of other sound similarities (as in Jon 2:4–5).40 How a particular poet/text uses language is also relevant.41 We have seen that similarity of sounds, along with proximity, can draw words together, affecting groupings of words and thus influencing how lines and line-groupings emerge. These similarities may also include other aspects of language further along in the processing of language, like syntax and semantics. So far we have been focusing on how the principle of similarity affects the cohesion of single lines and their perceptibility as distinct units. But similarity also draws together contiguous lines, influencing their coherence as line- groupings. This is one of the basic (and thorny!) issues that “parallelism” has tried unsuccessfully to account for: How do we describe how adjacent lines “go together”—in a specific and meaningful way that still accounts for the great diversity of line-groupings in biblical poetry? There are some lines that are quite vaguely “similar”; in context, they clearly belong together and not with what precedes or follows. For example, consider Jonah 2:7a–b (ET 2:6a–b): TEXT 4.10 lǝqiṣbê hārîm yāradtî To-the-roots-of mountains I-went-down.42
7a
ְל ִק ְצ ֵ ֤בי ָה ִר ֙ים יָ ַ ֔ר ְד ִּתי
hāʾāreṣ bǝrīḥêhā baʿădî lǝʿôlām The-earth—its-bars (were) behind-me for-ever.
7b
עֹול֑ם ָ יה ַב ֲע ִ ֖די ְל ָ ָה ָ ֛א ֶרץ ְּב ִר ֶ ֥ח
These individual lines have their own strong clausal shapes and internal grammatical structures. But they also clearly belong together: they cohere as a line-pair in context. We might paraphrase that coherence: So very deep I went down, even to the roots of the mountains; even into the netherworld with the gates slammed shut. There are intricate contextual semantic connections to be made
40. Given the context of so many sound similarities in Jon 2:4d–5b, we should probably also consider the sound similarities (shared features) of 2:5c as perceptually relevant to line structure: ʾak ʾôsîp lǝhabbîṭ. 41. E.g., in Mic 1:10, because of the context of various other kinds of sound-play and word-play, it is clear that similarity with metathesis of consonants is perceptually significant: bǝgat ʾal-taggîdû (“in-Gath do-not-declare”). I would not necessarily assume this minimal similarity is perceptually relevant to line cohesion in another context. Micah 1:10 is alluding to David’s lament, which has ʾal-taggîdû bǝgat (“do-not-declare in- Gath”) in 2 Sam 1:20. In 2 Sam 1:20 the corresponding syllables have three intervening syllables between them (rather than one), and they do not, in context, seem perceptually significant to line structure (which is symmetrically arranged, though imbalanced). 42. A number of modern translations and scholars group yāradtî (“I went down”) with hāʾāreṣ (“the earth”) (thus BHS), which goes against the Masoretic accents and regularizes the presumed meter. This reading does not improve upon the sense of the Masoretic phrasing and does not produce an idiomatic Hebrew phrase. Furthermore, it has no solid support in the ancient versions (Sasson 1990: 185–87).
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 93 ]
between the two parts, and no doubt someone else would paraphrase the line- pair differently. Hearing the line-pair requires an active semantic integration of the lines into a unified whole. However, the perception of the lines here is dependent not upon this integration but upon perceiving them as segregated shapes. That is, the line structure depends on the strong shapes of the lines, and the semantic integration of the whole can follow.43 Thus, in this line-pair, similarity draws the lines together as a line-grouping, but it does not help us segregate the individual lines.44 For the rest of this section, I discuss a different and specific kind of similarity in biblical poetry related to line structure: similarities between lines that not only draw them together into line-groupings but also facilitate their segregation, and thus the organization of part-whole structure. Line-groupings in biblical poetry are figures that must be processed temporally: the figures of biblical poetry cannot be viewed from the top down (as they can be in visual art), beginning with the whole and moving to the parts (or vice versa). The figures of biblical poetry emerge according to the order of the words in time. This means that patterns—even though they are part-whole patterns—must be processed in relation to what has already been heard. For most of the duration of the emergence of a line-grouping, our “view” of the whole figure is partial. As students of the poems, we cannot “look” at a complete line-grouping and catalog similarities; we must ask how similarities would be aurally perceived as emerging in time. As we saw in section 2.2, many metrical poetries use some kind of text-internal end-marking of lines to aid the listener in hearing the line in relation to the template by signaling the line’s completion. An example of this is end-rhyme (which is also a kind of grouping by similarity). In contrast, in free-rhythm biblical poetry, in which there is no line template, similarity at the beginnings of lines functions as an effective way to aid the listener in segregating lines and organizing part-whole line relationships.45 It allows
43. Unless the semantic arrangement of each line of a line-pair contributes to the part-whole structure of the lines (as in, e.g., semantic symmetry, discussed in section 5.2), I do not think it is helpful to systematize the semantic relations between two lines. It is enough to say that semantic similarity draws the lines together, that semantic similarity can take countless forms, and that the demand is on the listener/ reader to work out the semantic connections to understand and appreciate the poem. Although I do not think parallelism is “of one sort” (“parallelism” describes many phenomena and conceptually mixes them all up), I can otherwise echo Kugel’s well-known sentiment (against Lowth’s three categories of parallelism) that semantic relationships between lines can be “a hundred sorts” but “not three” (1981: 58). 44. Contrast Judg 5:25 (text 4.1 and 5.7), in which the semantic (symmetrical) structuring of the line-pair is necessary for the segregation of lines and the organization of the line-pair. Like Jon 2:4–5 (text 4.9), Jon 2:7 resists symmetry. 45. Anaphora can serve the same function in modern free verse, e.g., in Walt Whitman’s poetry (Smith 1968: 90). “Anaphora highlights poetic lines as discrete units while simultaneously binding those lines together” (Weare 2012: 50). [ 94 ] Gestalt Principles
the listener to structure the second line in relation to the first as the second line begins, confirming the delimitation of the first line.46 The song of Exodus 15 frequently structures its lines with line-initial repetition, a common device in other poems as well.47 This first example is Exod 15:3: TEXT 4.11 yhwh ʾîš milḥāmâ YHWH (is) a-man-of war.48
3a
הו֖ה ִ ֣איׁש ִמ ְל ָח ָ ֑מה ָ ְי
yhwh šǝmô YHWH (is) his-name.
3b
הו֖ה ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ָ ְי
Exact repetition of words or phrases is common at the beginnings of biblical lines but rarer at line-ends.49 Notice that exact repetition at the beginning of the second line brings along with it the expectation for change; rarely is a line simply repeated. The line-initial similarity here is not limited to the repetition of yhwh (“YHWH”). It also continues in the more subtle similarity of sounds just after: yhwh ʾîš milḥāmâ /yhwh šǝmô.50 A second example is Exodus 15:6 (with prosodic phrases marked in transliteration/translation): TEXT 4.12 6a
הוה נֶ ְא ָּד ִ ֖רי ַּב ּ֑כֹ ַח ֔ ָ ְיְמינְ ָך֣ י ִֽ
(yǝmînǝkā yhwh) (tirʿaṣ ʾôyēb)| 6b (your-right-hand, O-YHWH,) (shatters enemy.)|
אֹויֽב׃ ֵ הו֖ה ִּת ְר ַ ֥עץ ָ ְיְמינְ ָך֥ י ִֽ
(yǝmînǝkā yhwh)| (neʾdārî) (bakkōaḥ)| (Your-right-hand, O-YHWH,)| (magnificent) (in-the-power,)|51
46. “Similarity acts as a structural principle only in conjunction with separation, namely, as a force of attraction among segregated things” (Arnheim 1974: 79). In biblical poetry, this is why prosodic phonological space is so important; it provides the potential for segregation that structuring lines by similarity requires. 47. For another example of a poem with different kinds of line-initial repetition, see Ps 96. 48. I.e., “YHWH is a warrior.” 49. Watson notes the sparsity of line-end repetition in biblical poetry. The few examples that Watson gives are not contiguous lines in a line-grouping (2005: 276–77). An example of line-end patterned repetition in alternating lines occurs in Isa 5:1 (text 4.16). Line-end similarity that is not exact repetition can also contribute to the overall patterning of whole line-groupings, as in Deut 32:8. 50. Mental structuring of the line-pair does not depend on the perception of this sound similarity, but the mental organization of the lines due to line-initial similarity increases the likelihood that the sound patterning would be perceived. On the imbalance of this line-pair in relation to closure, see the discussion in section 6.2 (text 6.13). 51. The word neʾdārî (“magnificent”) is pointed as a niphal masc. sg. participle (with ḥireq compaginis). Because yāmîn (“right hand”) is grammatically feminine, I am reading
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 95 ]
In Exod 15:6, each line can be heard as two two-word prosodic shapes, because of the placement of the vocative yhwh (“YHWH”). Line 6a is syntactically incomplete (see n51). As 6b begins, it repeats the subject and vocative from line 6a, and the line-pair comes to syntactic (and figural) completion with the predicate tirʿaṣ ʾôyēb (“shatters enemy”).52 The repetition of yǝmînǝkā yhwh (“your-right-hand, O-YHWH”) allows us to clearly structure the clauses in relation to each other as a line-pair, rather than simply as four two-word prosodic shapes. Compare the shapes of Exodus 15:11 (unlineated, with prosodic phrases marked): נֹורא ְת ִה ֹּ֖לת ֥עֹ ֵׂשה ֶ ֽפ ֶלא׃ ֥ ָ מ ָכה נֶ ְא ָ ּ֣דר ַּב ּ֑קֹ ֶדׁש ֹ ֖ הוה ִ ֥מי ָּכ ֔ ָ ְמ ָכה ָ ּֽב ֵא ִל ֙ם י ֹ ֤ י־כ ָ ִ ֽמ (mî-kāmōkâ bāʾēlīm) (yhwh)| (mî kāmōkâ) (neʾdār baqqōdeš)| (nôrāʾ tǝhillōt) (ʿōśê peleʾ)| (Who~(is)-like-you among-the-gods,)53 (YHWH?)| (Who (is) like-you—) (magnificent in- the- holiness,)| (awesome (in) praises,) (doing wonder(s)?)| In Exod 15:11, the repetition of mî kāmōkâ (“who (is) like you?”) allows us to structure the second line in relation to the first as it begins. Yet unlike 15:6, there is no felt completion as this verse continues but rather, an explosion of YHWH’s incomparability. How does the poet accomplish this, under the part- whole constraint of biblical line structure? To begin, unlike 15:6, the verse opens with a syntactically complete construction (mî-kāmōkâ bāʾēlīm, “who is like you among the gods?”). The repetition in 15:11 does not repeat the first neʾdārî bakkōaḥ (“majestic in power”) as appositional to the vocative “YHWH,” not as the predicate of its clause. For extended discussion, see Propp 1999: 518. 52. This pattern is often referred to as “staircase parallelism” (Greenstein 1974, 1977; see Watson 2005: 150–52, for an overview of scholarship and bibliography). The syntax of the line-pair can be analyzed as two clauses with the predicate elided backward; see C. L. Miller 2007a: 168. (For a discussion of ellipsis in relation to poetic structure and effects, see section 5.4.) Unlike ellipsis in a symmetrical line-pair (section 5.4), the elliptical pattern in Exod 15:6 is a pattern of continuation: repetition with the expectation for change (section 6.1). Thus, the shape of the line-pair, though stable through balance (section 5.5), is still a forward-moving shape, not a shape of overall equilibrium (section 5.3). This is evidenced by the different contextual occurrences of the pattern: though this pattern has a degree of closure at the end of the second line (due to the syntactic requiredness created by the first line, section 6.3) and can thus emerge as a line-pair (e.g., Ps 94:1, 3), the pattern can also continue into a third line and emerge as an integrated line-triple (e.g., Ps 93:3). The emergence of the pattern and its effects must still be heard contextually, within the organization of the larger whole. Cf. Greenstein’s view of the psycholinguistic or perceptual effects of staircase parallelism (1974, 1977). 53. There is no contextual reason to read this segment of text as syntactically incomplete for the sake of “staircase parallelism” (contra Propp 1999: 526). [ 96 ] Gestalt Principles
prosodic phrase; it only repeats the first prosodic word (mî-kāmōkâ, “who~(is)- like-you”), which the Masoretic Text marks as two prosodic words in the repetition. The repetition stops short, and the other gods disappear altogether. But we expect some kind of development in this figure, not an abrupt end: the repetition (and the nature of biblical poetic line-figures) has set up that expectation. We expect the line (and the figure) to do more. The line continues and the development begins with neʾdār baqqōdeš (“magnificent in-the-holiness”). The focus shifts, through repetition of the preposition b- (“in, among”), from YHWH “among the gods” (bāʾēlīm) to YHWH “in the holiness” (baqqōdeš). At this point we can hear that a second line has emerged in relation to 11a (another line of two prosodic phrases), but there is no felt closure, equilibrium, or meaningful resolution to the cut-short repetition:54 TEXT 4.13A (mî-kāmōkâ bāʾēlīm) (yhwh)| (Who~(is)-like-you among-the-gods,) (YHWH?)|
11a
הוה ֔ ָ ְמ ָכה ָ ּֽב ֵא ִל ֙ם י ֹ ֤ י־כ ָ ִ ֽמ
(mî kāmōkâ) (neʾdār baqqōdeš)| (Who (is) like-you—) (magnificent in-the-holiness,)|
11b
מ ָכה נֶ ְא ָ ּ֣דר ַּב ּ֑קֹ ֶדׁש ֹ ֖ ִ ֥מי ָּכ
We can organize 11b in relation to 11a (and the major phrase boundary after baqqōdeš, “in the holiness,” may encourage us to do this), but the figure is still building. It continues: TEXT 4.13B (nôrāʾ tǝhillōt) (ʿōśê peleʾ)| (awesome (in) praises,)55 (doing wonder(s)!)|
11c
נֹורא ְת ִה ֹּ֖לת ֥עֹ ֵׂשה ֶ ֽפ ֶלא׃ ָ֥
The new rhythm of 11b (resulting from the two-word prosodic phrases, unlike 11a) continues into 11c. The development of YHWH’s incomparability continues. The phrase nôrāʾ tǝhillōt (“awesome (in) praises”) is closely connected to neʾdār baqqōdeš (“magnificent in-the-holiness”), through the repetition of another niphal (passive) participle and the (surface) similarity of grammatical structures. As a result, the boundary between 11b and 11c is lessened by similarity between the contiguous phrases and by the syntactic continuity. One
54. Closure does not come at the end of 11b, as in 6b, because no syntactic requiredness is set up (section 6.3). (The second prosodic phrase in 11b is in apposition to “you.”) Lines 11a–b do not have the equilibrium of symmetry (section 5.3). 55. The word tǝhillōt (“praises”) in 11c is used in the sense of “praiseworthy acts” (BDB 240).
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 97 ]
more prosodic phrase fills out the line (ʿōśê peleʾ, “doing wonder(s)”), with another participle, this time active. Once again (as in v. 6) the praise has moved from God’s greatness to God’s action, but in a quite different manner. The line-initial repetition in line 11b is like an apocopated repeat in an expanding fireworks display. The shapes can be organized into three lines of nearly equal length (counting by syllables), due primarily to the line-initial repetition in 11b in relation to how the shapes unfold in time. But the lines do not correspond with or contain all the language shapes: to hear the building momentum of the whole, we must hear much more than three “equal” lines, and we must actively organize similarities in relation to each other as the figure unfolds. Line-initial word repetition is an unambiguous way to exploit similarity for line structure. But biblical poetry frequently uses more subtle similarity at line beginnings as well. Exodus 15:11 is followed by another line-triple focusing on God’s action, continuing the trajectory of praise from God’s greatness to God’s action (Exod 15:12–13): TEXT 4.14 (nāṭîtā) (yǝmînǝkā)| (tiblāʿēmô) (ʾāreṣ)| (You-stretch-out) (your-right-hand,)| (swallowed-them) (earth.)|56
12
(nāḥîtā bǝḥasdǝkā) (ʿam-zû gāʾāltā)| 13a (You-lead in-your-loyal-love) (people-whom you-redeemed.)| (nēhaltā bǝʿozzǝkā) (ʾel-nǝwê qodšekā)| (You-guide in-your-strength [them]) (to~dwelling-of your-holiness.)|
13b
יְמינְ ָ֔ך ִּת ְב ָל ֵ ֖עמֹו ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ֣ ִ ית ָ֙ נָ ִ֙ט
ית ְב ַח ְס ְּדָך֖ ַעם־ז֣ ּו ּגָ ָ ֑א ְל ָּת ָ נָ ִ ֥ח
נֵ ַ ֥ה ְל ָּת ְב ָעּזְ ָך֖ ֶאל־נְ ֵו֥ה ָק ְד ֶ ֽׁשָך׃
Line-initial similarity is what allows us to hear these lines in relation to each other and organize them as an integrated line-triple. Each line is made up of two two-word prosodic shapes (either major or minor phrases). (Line 12 sets up this two-shape rhythm with two independent clauses.) The similarities in the first prosodic shape of each line provide the integrating structure for the whole; the second prosodic shapes in each line are all quite different. The beginning of line 13a is similar to the beginning of line 12 in the sounds of nāṭîtā and nāḥîtā, as well as the pronominal suffix (-kā, “your”) on the second word. The beginning of line 13b is similar to the beginning of line 13a somewhat in sounds but especially in the meaning of nāḥîtā (“you lead”) and nēhaltā (“you
56. I.e., “the earth swallowed them.” In the part-whole structuring of the line-triple, the two actions (God stretching out his hand, the earth swallowing the enemy) are presented as a unity. [ 98 ] Gestalt Principles
guide”), as well as the preposition (b- “with”) and pronominal suffix on the second word (-kā, “your”). Since YHWH’s right hand (yǝmînǝkā) is a symbol of strength (ʿozzǝkā), line 13b connects to line 12 and thus ties together the whole figure.57 Patterning in the lines and line-groupings of biblical poetry is often dependent upon similarities that provide the necessary unifying structure of the whole. “Comparisons, connections and separations will not be made between unrelated things, but only when the setup as a whole suggests a sufficient basis. Similarity is a prerequisite for the noticing of differences” (Arnheim 1974: 79). Line-initial similarity provides the unifying structure needed for the patterning of this four-line verse in Deuteronomy 32:22: TEXT 4.15 kî-ʾēš qādǝḥâ bǝʾappî For~a-fire flares in-my-anger,
22a
י־א ׁ֙ש ָק ְד ָ ֣חה ְב ַא ֔ ִּפי ֵ ִּכ
wattîqad ʿad-šǝʾôl taḥtît and-it-burns as-far-as~Sheol lowest,
22b
ד־ׁש ֣אֹול ַּת ְח ִ ּ֑תית ְ �יקד ַע ֖ ַ וַ ִּת
wattōʾkal ʾereṣ wîbulāh and-it-devours earth and-its-yield,
22c
אכל ֶ֙א ֶר ֙ץ ִ ֽו ֻיב ֔ ָלּה ַ ֹ וַ ּ֤ת
wattǝlahēṭ môsǝdê hārîm and-it-scorches foundations-of mountains.
22d
מֹוס ֵ ֥די ָה ִ ֽרים׃ ְ וַ ְּת ַל ֵ ֖הט
This verse is made up of four lines of three-word (major) prosodic phrases that correspond with clauses. The line-initial wayyiqtol verb forms in 22b, 22c, and 22d connect each line to the preceding line; this is what allows us to easily structure the four lines as a whole. (Wayyiqtol forms are common in narrative prose but infrequent in poetry.) The line structure is clear because of the line-initial similarity, and the whole of the line-grouping is also integrated. This clarity of structure provides the basis for further intricate patterning of the whole. Each of the verbs has ʾēš (“fire”) as its subject, but the lines are patterned A/A/B/B based on the transitivity of the verb (wattōʾkal, “devours,” in 22c and wattǝlahēṭ, “scorches,” in 22d have objects). Furthermore, just as 22b has the fire burning to the lowest extreme of Sheol, 22d has the fire scorching even the foundations of the mountains, as low as possible (cf. Jon 2:7, text 4.10). This allows us to mentally structure the movement of the fire in 22c– 22d in the same way that we structured the movement of the fire in 22a– 22b (in an A/→B/A/→B pattern). The perception of these internal patterns is made possible by the unity of the whole. That is, the overall shape of this 57. The Masoretic accentuation represents prosodic phonology, not poetic prosody: each Masoretic verse contains a pragmatic utterance—here, two clauses of the same length. On the bilateralism of prosodic phonology, see Pitcher 2020: 121–25.
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 99 ]
verse is not simply A/B/B/B, following the verb forms. Rather, the verb forms provide the unifying structure of the whole (setting up four related lines) so that the pairs of lines can be organized in relation to each other.58 The equivalences and contrasts between the lines are only relevant in the context of the patterned whole. Likewise, in Isaiah 5:1, it is the whole that provides the context for which of the various similarities are perceptibly relevant to the line structure: TEXT 4.16 ʾāšîrâ nāʾ lîdîdî Let-me-sing ‹u.p.› for-my-beloved
1a
ידי ֔ ִ ָא ִ ׁ֤ש ָירה ּנָ ֙א ִ ֽל ִיד
šîrat dôdî lǝkarmô a-song-of my-lover for-his-vineyard.
1b
ּדֹודי ְל ַכ ְר ֑מֹו ֖ ִ ירת ֥ ַ ִׁש
kerem hāyâ lîdîdî A-vineyard belonged to-my-beloved
1c
ידי ֖ ִ ֶּכ ֶ֛רם ָהָי֥ה ִ ֽל ִיד
bǝqeren ben-šāmen on-a-horn-of a-son-of~oil.59
1d
ן־ׁש ֶמן׃ ֽ ָ �ּב ֶ ְ֥ק ֶרן ֶּב
Each line is a three-word prosodic shape (either a major or minor phrase). The patterning of words within the shapes affects the organization of the whole, accounting for why certain similarities are line-structurally relevant while others are not. In lines 1a and 1b, the similarities (phonological/lexical/morphological) between ʾāšîrâ/šîrat and lîdîdî/lǝkarmô enable us to structure the line-pair. The repetition of lîdîdî (at the ends of two clause-internal phrases) allows us to structure line 1c in relation to 1a (thus drawing the two line-pairs together). Line 1d coheres because of the line-internal similarities of sounds and syllable structure (*bǝqarn ben-*šamn), and the line initial *karm/ *bǝqarn also draws lines 1c and 1d together.60 The similarities of lǝkarmô (line 1b) and *karm (line 1c), and lîdîdî (lines 1a/1c) and dôdî (line 1b), are not line- structurally relevant in the context of the whole.61 Another example of line-initial similarity that helps set up a different kind of patterning of the whole comes from Micah 1:7:
58. A further potential unifying factor of the four lines is the closure in the fourth line brought about by the rhythmic patterning of the prosodic phrases; see n49 in ch. 6. 59. I.e., on a hill that is fertile, able to produce olive trees. 60. The pre-anaptyxis forms in lines 1c–d are *karm hāyâ lîdîdî *bǝqarn ben-*šamn. 61. This may seem so obvious as to be elementary. The reason I point it out is because biblical scholars are sometimes more accustomed to pointing out similarities within biblical texts (whether macrostructural or microstructural) than to demonstrating how such similarities are perceptibly relevant to the whole. Not every similarity is relevant to poetic structure. Similarities or repetitions may even serve an integrating function without contributing to the patterning of poetic structure. [ 100 ] Gestalt Principles
TEXT 4.17 wǝkol-pǝsîlêhā yukkattû And-all~her-images will-be-crushed,
7a
֣יה יֻ ַּ֗כּתּו ָ ל־ּפ ִס ֶיל ְ וְ ָכ
wǝkol-ʾetnannêhā yiśśārǝpû bāʾēš and-all~her-wages will-be-burned in-the-fire,
7b
יה יִ ָּׂש ְר ֣פּו ָב ֵ֔אׁש ָ֙ ֶ֙ל־א ְתנַ ּנ ֶ וְ ָכ
wǝkol-ʿăṣabbêhā ʾāśîm šǝmāmâ and-all~her-idols I-will-make desolation—
7c
יה ָא ִ ׂ֣שים ְׁש ָמ ָ ֑מה ָ ל־ע ַצ ֶ ּ֖ב ֲ וְ ָכ
kî mēʾetnan zônâ qibbāṣâ for from-wage-of harlot she-gathered
7d
֠ ִּכי ֵמ ֶא ְת ַנ�֤ן זֹונָ ֙ה ִק ָּ֔ב ָצה
wǝʿad-ʾetnan zônâ yāšûbû and-to~wage-of harlot they-will-return.
7e
זֹונ֖ה יָ ֽׁשּובּו׃ ָ ד־א ְת ַנ�֥ן ֶ וְ ַע
The verse begins with three lines (each a clause), each of which begins with wǝkol, “and all.” The repetition binds them together. The patterning of the lines, however, is not simply a pattern of repetition but a pattern of intensification: wǝkol +suffixed noun +passive verb (7a), wǝkol +suffixed noun + passive verb +prepositional phrase (7b), wǝkol +suffixed noun +active verb +object (7c). The intensification is easier to “hear” than to grammatically describe. The intensification could keep going, but it does not; it comes to an abrupt stop with 7d, kî “for . . . ,” and a new (symmetrical) pattern emerges.62 We have seen that similarity functions to draw together words of a line and to draw together or pattern lines within a grouping. A final example, Psalm 1:1, uses both strategies in the patterning of an integrated line-grouping. The verse presents a number of lineation problems for parallelistic and metrical/ rhythmic approaches, and more than one scholar has questioned whether the psalm is actually poetry.63 Here is Ps 1:1 in continuous format, with the Masoretic prosodic phrases shown in transliteration/translation: מֹוׁשב ֜ ֵל ִ֗צים ֣ל ֹא ֥ ַ ּוב ְ ּוב ֶ ֣ד ֶרְך ַ ֭ח ָּט ִאים ֥ל ֹא ָע ָ ֑מד ְ י־ה ִ֗איׁש ֲא ֶ ׁ֤שר׀ ֥ל ֹא ָה ַל ְ֘ך ַּב ֲע ַצ֪ת ְר ָׁ֫ש ִ ֥עים ָ ַ ֥א ְ ֽׁש ֵר יָ ָ ֽׁשב׃
(ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš)| (ʾăšer) (lōʾ hālak) (baʿăṣat rǝšāʿîm)| (ûbǝderek ḥaṭṭāʾîm) (lōʾ ʿāmād)| (ûbǝmôšab lēṣîm) (lōʾ yāšāb)|
(Happy~the-man)| (who) (does-not walk) (in-counsel-of wicked)| (and- in-way-of sinners) (does-not stand)| (and-in-seat-of scoffers) (does- not sit.)| 62. Notice that the repeated conjunctions do not allow us to anticipate the abrupt end of the pattern, in contrast to a shape like this: kol . . . kol . . . wǝkol, “all . . . all . . . and all. . . .” The three-line pattern does not have closure. (See further the discussion of the larger passage in section 6.2, text 6.11). 63. E.g., Watson 2005: 45. For discussion of the scholarly debates over the poetic nature of Ps 1, see Seow 2013.
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 101 ]
The major phrase boundaries (marked with |) divide the verse into four major prosodic phrases. The final two major phrases correspond with two “parallel” lines at the end of the verse (according to both syntax and semantics); scholars are uncertain about how to lineate the portion before these two “parallel” lines. They generally follow the phrasing of the text, treating this first portion as a single long line (thus Alter 2019c: 3), as two unequal lines (according to the “sense” of the text, dividing after ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš, “happy~the-man”; thus Alter 2011: 143), or as three more “equal” lines (of two or three words, thus BHS).64 Expectations related to rhythm and “parallelism” affect the decision. I am going to argue instead for a lineation that unfolds in time based on the perceptual principles of similarity and proximity. We cannot start with the last two “parallel” lines of the verse and then figure out what to do with the beginning; we must start at the beginning and listen to how the lines emerge temporally as parts of a larger whole.65 The verse begins: י־ה ִ֗איׁש ֲא ֶ ׁ֤שר׀ ֥ל ֹא ָה ַל ְ֘ך ַּב ֲע ַצ֪ת ְר ָׁ֫ש ִ ֥עים ָ ַ ֥א ְ ֽׁש ֵר (ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš)| (ʾăšer) (lōʾ hālak) (baʿăṣat rǝšāʿîm)| (Happy~the-man)| (who) (does-not walk) (in-counsel-of wicked)| In section 4.3, I explained that phrasing in Tiberian Hebrew depends on the context; whether or not an orthographic word is treated as a prosodic word affects the phrasing. In this verse, lōʾ (“not”) is not joined to the verb with a maqqef (hyphen); it is a prosodic word. This results in the phrasing (ʾăšer) (lōʾ hālak) rather than *(ʾăšer lōʾ~hālak). Typically, ʾašrê (“happy”) is marked by the Masoretes as its own prosodic word, but here (in L) it is joined to hāʾîš (“the man”). This results in a one-word phrase (ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš)|.66 On the one hand, the
64. Goldingay lineates as I do, although with line-pairs rather than a line-four (2006: 81); however, he does not discuss the rationale for his lineation. Alter explains: “I have set out the initial phrase as an introductory formula or virtual title before the first line, since otherwise line 1 would begin with an impossibly long rhythmic unit” (2011: 143). Seow likewise treats the first two words as a title (2013: 279). 65. As we will see, the last two segments of the text (conventionally regarded as “parallel” lines) do indeed emerge as lines: not simply in relation to each other, though, but in relation to the unfolding whole. 66. The other example in the Westminster Leningrad Codex of ʾašrê joined with maqqef to the following orthographic word is in Ps 112:1. In the Aleppo Codex of Ps 1:1, unlike L, ʾašǝrê hāʾîš is not joined with a maqqef. (I am grateful to Ryan Sikes for pointing out to me this difference in manuscripts.) The difference between L and A in the use of the maqqef/hyphen reflects a difference of phrase-internal spacing or proximity; see n69, this chapter. In spite of the maqqef difference in the first phrase of Ps 1:1, L and A have the same cantillation marks. In L, the prosodic word thus has a complex pitch accent. (The 1997 printed edition of BHS treats the first accent of the phrase as a metheg, which has been corrected to the conjunctive accent merka in the digital Westminster Leningrad Codex, reproduced here.) Also of note with respect to [ 102 ] Gestalt Principles
largest prosodic space of this textual segment is felt after hāʾîš (“the man”), corresponding with the disjunctive accent rǝbīʿa; this creates a strong potential for a line boundary. On the other hand, ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš is hardly a self-contained subwhole, and it is not clear how it could be organized as a genuine part of the whole figure (on one-word lines, see section 7.3). Furthermore, another shape competes with the major prosodic phrase, the similarity of sounds of ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš ʾăšer.67 Because of the prosodic word division of (ʾăšer) (lōʾ hālak), there is a phrasing space after ʾăšer, a potential line boundary.68 The relationship between proximity and similarity can be represented in this way (from left to right; the circles represent orthographic words, the space between circles represents the perceptual space between prosodic units [words or phrases], and the darkened circles represent sound similarity):69 (●●)| (●) (○ ○) (○ ○)| The similarity of sounds potentially pulls the word ʾăšer (“who”) backward in perceptual grouping, exploiting the small space offered by the minor phrase boundary. This results in a potential division into two subwholes: ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš ʾăšer /lōʾ hālak baʿăṣat rǝšāʿîm. But the whole of the line-grouping is not complete; we must ask whether the remaining lines confirm this organization or not. As the verse continues to unfold, various patterns emerge using the prosodic phrase shapes. The third subwhole is patterned in a way that confirms the proposed delimitation of the second subwhole as a unit. The prosodic phrases of this third subwhole are arranged chiastically in relation to the second subwhole: (lōʾ hālak) (baʿăṣat rǝšāʿîm) (does-not walk) (in-counsel-of wicked) (ûbǝderek ḥaṭṭāʾîm) (lōʾ ʿāmād) (and-in-way-of sinners) (does-not stand)
the prosodic phonology of the first two lexical words is the rare and unexpected accent retraction of the accent on ʾašrê to the first syllable (noted by Yeivin 1980: 274), which produces the pronunciation ʾášərê (with a metheg under š). (Yeivin suggests the vague explanation of “musical origin” for the phenomenon.) 67. The retraction of the accent on ʾašrê to the first syllable and the resulting altered syllable structure (see n66, this chapter) enhances the similarity of sounds between ʾášərê and ʾăšer; the reader can compare the difference in perceived similarity without the accent retraction, with syllable-final accentuation (*ʾašrê-hāʾîš ʾăšer). 68. This organization of the lines is attendant to the prosodic phonology of the Masoretic accentuation. I am not extracting poetic prosody from the accents in any systematic way; I am asking how various nuances of the reading tradition influence the potential for organizing the text into lines. We should be aware of whether our mental organization of lines requires prosodic phrasing that is different from the reading tradition of the Masoretic Text. 69. The slight difference in the Aleppo Codex can be represented as follows: (● ●)| (●) (○ ○) (○ ○)|
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 103 ]
Finally, the prosodic phrases of the fourth subwhole are arranged in the same order as the third: (ûbǝderek ḥaṭṭāʾîm) (lōʾ ʿāmād) (ûbǝmôšab lēṣîm) (lōʾ yāšāb)
(and-in-way-of sinners) (does-not stand) (and-in-seat-of scoffers) (does-not sit.)
The patterning of the four subwholes or lines (1a–d) can be represented as follows: -A A (segregation due to similarity of sounds) A B C C B (chiastic similarity of phrases) C B (same-order similarity of phrases) This line-by-line patterning supports my claim that these lines can be organized in relation to each other as distinct units, as the text unfolds aurally in time, but it does not address the integration of the whole: how it is that the parts emerge as an integrated four-line grouping. The schematized patterning might give the impression that the whole figure has the overall shape of 1 +3 lines, or 2 +2 lines, but this is not the case. The lines are integrated in various ways. Here is Psalm 1:1, lineated:70 TEXT 4.18 ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš ʾăšer Happy~the-man who
1a
י־ה ִ֗איׁש ֲא ֶ ׁ֤שר׀ ָ ַ ֥א ְ ֽׁש ֵר
lōʾ hālak baʿăṣat rǝšāʿîm does-not walk in-counsel-of wicked
1b
֥ל ֹא ָה ַל ְ֘ך ַּב ֲע ַצ֪ת ְר ָׁ֫ש ִ ֥עים
ûbǝderek ḥaṭṭāʾîm lōʾ ʿāmād and-in-way-of sinners does-not stand
1c
ּוב ֶ ֣ד ֶרְך ַ ֭ח ָּט ִאים ֥ל ֹא ָע ָ ֑מד ְ
ûbǝmôšab lēṣîm lōʾ yāšāb and-in-seat-of scoffers does-not sit.
1d
מֹוׁשב ֜ ֵל ִ֗צים ֣ל ֹא יָ ָ ֽׁשב׃ ֥ ַ ּוב ְ
70. In my opinion, this is an example of a poetic text where the format of lines on the page simply distracts from how the parts of the figure emerge. Especially the English translation misses that the words of 1a cohere to create a subwhole, and the layout makes 1a/1b “look” like enjambment, the spilling over of a line boundary. Line 1a does not exhibit enjambment or produce the effects of enjambment (which are based in a particular cognitive organization of lines made possible by meter or graphic format), because it is a subwhole of a figure, not an end-fixed line. In the figures of biblical poetry, the subwholes emerge in relation to the whole; shapes may overlap or conflict, but lines do not “break” or “spill over.” See section 7.1 for further discussion of enjambment as a phenomenon foreign to how lines and effects emerge in the biblical versification system. [ 104 ] Gestalt Principles
The lines are integrated in the following ways so that no two lines emerge as a segregated line-pair: • Line 1b is integrated with 1a through syntax and prosodic phrasing. • Line 1c is integrated with line 1b through chiastic phrase patterning, and line 1d is integrated with 1c through same-order phrase patterning. • Lines 1b and 1c are integrated through the pair rǝšāʿîm/ḥaṭṭāʾîm (“wicked”/ “sinners”), which are more similar to each other than they are to line 1d’s lēṣîm (“scoffers”).71 (The wicked/sinners re-emerge later in the poem in prominent contrast with the righteous, though the scoffers do not.) • Lines 1b, 1c, and 1d are integrated all together through the progression walk–stand–sit. We might consider standing more similar to sitting (than walking is to standing), since both lack movement. But notice what the text does to prevent the semantic pairing of lines 1c and 1d through the verbs ʿāmād (“stand”) and yāšāb (“sit”): it introduces the unexpected idea of “standing in the way” (with the order ûbǝderek . . . lōʾ ʿāmād, “in the way . . . does not stand,” which postpones “standing,” the element of surprise).72 In this manner line 1c bridges the transition from 1b to 1d; line 1c continues the notion of movement (“walking”) from 1b by beginning with bǝderek “in (the) way,” yet it transitions to an absence of motion with the (contextually) unexpected verb ʿāmād (“stand”). • Line 1d is integrated with line 1a in a subtle way that brings unity to the whole line-grouping. The arrangement of the words in line 1a produces a sound symmetry within the line, in which the end corresponds to the beginning: ʾašǝrê- hāʾîš ʾăšer. Likewise, in line 1d, the order of the words produces a sound/ lexical symmetry within the line, in which the end corresponds to the beginning: ûbǝmôšab lēṣîm lōʾ yāšāb (“and in the seat of scoffers does not sit”).73 While the shapes of the lines can be segregated and organized in relation to each other as the figure unfolds, it is the integration and organization of the
71. Lēṣîm (“scoffers”) is a term denoting scornful insolence and arrogance, a type of folly in wisdom literature (M. V. Fox 2000: 42), with which this psalm has strong affinities. 72. In the wisdom tradition of Psalms and Proverbs, “to walk (hālak) in a way” is a common locution (Pss 32:8; 81:13; 101:6; 119:3; 128:1; 142:4; 143:8; Prov 1:15; 2:13; 2:20; 3:23; 7:19; 8:20; 16:29). 73. In addition to the symmetry this patterning provides to the whole figure, the line-internal patterning of 1d relates in a further way to the closure of the figure. Line 1c sets up a scenario (“in the way”) that ends with a contextually unexpected verb, “stand.” The figure feels unresolved; we expect another line to make sense of the whole. Line 1d, in contrast, sets up a scenario (“in the seat”) that closes with the most predictable verb possible, “sit” (from the same verbal root), which not only ends its line but also brings closure to the whole figure by ending the expectation for more. On closure as the expectation for nothing more, see section 6.2.
SIMPLICITY, PR OX I M I T Y AN D S I M I L A R I T Y
[ 105 ]
whole line-grouping that allows us to perceive and make sense of these complex patterns of various kinds of similarities. The organization of the whole prevents this segment of text from resembling a dangling chain of linked patterns. The whole figure has a coherent shape; the lines belong together as a whole figure. The principle of similarity is quite simple, but it is extremely flexible and widely applicable to many aspects of language in biblical poetry. In particular contexts, similarity can account for the segregation of lines or their organization into line-groupings or both. As we have seen, patterns based on similarity can get increasingly complex, and the perceptibility of patterning is aided and constrained by the organization of the whole. Two particular patterns within Psalm 1:1, the interlocking BC/CB and CB/CB line patterns, have introduced another kind of similarity: the similarity of position within a pattern. In Ps 1:1, these patterns remain local to overlapping parts within the figure or line- grouping. But commonly in biblical poetry, these kinds of patterns characterize the organization of the whole. “By going beyond the relations between parts one arrives at similarities definable only in reference to the whole pattern. Similarity of location can be extended to apply not only to units lying together, but also to similar position within the whole. Symmetry is such a similarity” (Arnheim 1974: 87). Symmetry opens up a whole new world of possibilities for lines and line-groupings in biblical poetry, as we shall see.
[ 106 ] Gestalt Principles
CHAPTER 5
Symmetry, Balance and Imbalance
In this chapter I explore the Gestalt principle of symmetry and demonstrate how it functions to create structure and produce effects in various contexts of biblical poetry, from line-pairs to larger groupings and stanzas to entire poems. Symmetry involves both a similarity of components and a similarity of their position in a whole, and it has an inherent equilibrium. Because symmetry requires balance, it also provides contexts in which to study balance and imbalance in biblical poetry. The words “symmetry” and “balance” often show up in general ways in discussions of parallelism in biblical poetry. In this chapter, I reclaim these two words as specific Gestalt-based or perception-oriented concepts that are key for understanding the artistry of biblical poems. Symmetry and balance are related to each other, but the two concepts must be kept distinct to study the structures and potential effects of biblical poetry.
S
ymmetry in biblical poetry is a vast topic. Many aspects of biblical poetry that have been described as “parallelism” relate to the organizing principle of symmetry, a specific kind of similarity. Symmetry, however, is not a renaming of parallelism. Symmetry as a perceptual principle requires a figural conceptualization of biblical poetic line structure, which the linear approach of parallelism and the metaphorical language of “parallel lines” obscure. Understanding symmetry as a perceptual principle allows us to observe and account for perceptual forces in the artistry of biblical poems. Symmetry is not the essence of biblical poetry; it is one important organizational principle of part-whole organization.
Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0005
5.1 THE PRINCIPLE OF SYMMETRY
Symmetry is a specific kind of similarity: a similarity not just of components but also of their position or arrangement within a whole. Symmetry is a common but remarkable phenomenon of nature, and bilateral symmetry is a fundamental aspect of our embodied human experience as we functionally interact with the world.1 In Gestalt theory, symmetry is one of the principles by which the mind makes sense of patterned stimuli and imposes order and organization in perception.2 It “signifies far more than mere similarity of parts; it refers rather to the logical correctness of a part considered relative to the whole in which that part occurs” (Wertheimer 1938: 83n1). As such, symmetry is a property of patterned wholes, not a property of parts. Without a sense of wholeness, there is no sense of symmetry. Consider the following patterns: (a) □✚○ ○✚□ (b) □✚○ □✚○ (c)
□✚○ □✚○ □✚○ □✚○ □✚○ . . . (an indefinitely continued pattern)
Patterns (a) and (b) have symmetry, the first with a vertical axis and the second with a horizontal axis. The sequence □✚○ in (a) and (b), by itself, cannot be said to exhibit symmetry, because it is a part. Only the patterned whole of (a) or (b) has the property of symmetry. Pattern (c) does not conclude or end; it lacks symmetry because it is not a unified whole. As a property of patterned wholes, symmetry has powerful potential to produce perceptual forces. Tsur describes symmetry in Gestalt theory as “the state of rest . . . due to the equal action of opposing perceptual forces” (2008: 1. Not only do we employ this schema of bilateral symmetry in our functional interactions with the world; we also employ it powerfully in our perception and thought to make sense of our world and even to cast order upon it. Through metonymic projection, our embodied understanding of bilateral symmetry lets us structure many things as symmetrical that we would not colloquially describe in such a way (Turner 1991: 69– 70, 89–90). Turner connects symmetry to Jakobson’s poetic function and parallelism (88, 94). Symmetry, however, is only one aspect of what “parallelism” in biblical studies has sought to describe; see n6, this chapter. On Jakobson’s poetic function, see section 8.2. For a discussion of the aversion of many modern biblical scholars to perceived symmetrical structures in the Bible, especially chiasm, see Teeter 2022. 2. On symmetry in perceptual organization, see van der Helm 2015b. [ 108 ] Gestalt Principles
118n1).3 Similarly, Smith refers to these opposing perceptual forces when she speaks of the unfulfilled expectation that partial symmetry can produce in a figure that seems not quite complete: “The sense of incompleteness . . . arises from the fact that the principle that generated one part of the figure was repeated to a sufficient extent to lead us to expect its total repetition” (1968: 27– 28). This can be demonstrated with the following pattern: (d) !@#$$#@ Pattern (d) feels incomplete and unstable. It is “supposed to” end in an exclamation mark. The organization of the whole results in unequal opposing perceptual forces. In contrast, pattern (e) feels complete and stable, in a state of rest: (e)
+%=^^=%+
The opposing perceptual forces are equal. We can also describe pattern (e) as a unified and closed whole. The perceptual stability of symmetry in art is related to but not to be equated with its inherent balance: perceptual balance may be achieved apart from symmetry, but symmetry cannot occur in the absence of balance (as Arnheim demonstrates with respect to visual art [1974: 21] and as we will see with respect to the verbal art of biblical poetry). Patterns (d) and (e) demonstrate that perceptual symmetry is not limited to mirror-image reflection about an axis, but it is limited by the organization of corresponding similar components within the whole. Pattern (e) is not geometrically symmetrical (one of the % symbols would need to be reversed in direction), but because we understand each symbol as an ordered component in the pattern, we can perceive the symmetry of the whole pattern. Similarly, the following pattern (f) is not particularly symmetrical unless we perceive the salient components and mentally organize the pattern according to their corresponding similarities (g): (f) A12B34C56c78b910a1112 (g) A1,2 B3,4 C5,6 c7,8 b9,10 a11,12 In (f) and (g), the component of organization is each letter grouped with the numbers following it, and the salient similarity is the similarity of upper and lowercase letters (i.e., “A” is similar to “a”). Symmetrical organization of
3. I have omitted part of Tsur’s phrasing to avoid the conflation of symmetry with balance; he writes, “the state of rest or balance.” I reserve balance for discussion below.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 109 ]
patterns requires both the successful differentiation of salient components and the recognition of which aspect(s) of corresponding components are similar. Like proximity and similarity, the principle of symmetry extends not just to visual stimuli in a spatial field but also to aural stimuli arranged in time. This flexibility of perceptual symmetry—its applicability to patterning of various kinds of components as well as to aural stimuli—allows us to organize language as symmetrical.4 Owing to the aural unfolding of poetic figures as language in time, there are two possible symmetrical orders in biblical poetry: reverse, or chiastic, order (ABCCBA) and same order (ABCABC). (The number of components varies, as in ABAB or ABCDABCD.) The same-order pattern is not inherently a closed whole, as is the reverse, or chiastic, pattern; it could continue indefinitely in time (ABCABCABC . . . ). Yet ABC/ABC line patterns rarely keep going in biblical poetry to become ABC/ABC/ABC patterns of line-triples (though line-triples are common enough in biblical poetry). Due to the part-whole nature of lines and line-groupings in biblical poetry, and the perceptual forces and strong equilibrium of symmetry as a property of wholes, symmetrical organization of a second line patterned ABC in relation to a first line patterned ABC as the text unfolds is exploited as the norm.5 (We will consider how a biblical poet exploits the non-equilibrium of an ABC/ABC/ABC line-triple later in this chapter, text 5.10 in section 5.3.) In biblical poetry, the perceptual “wholeness” of the line-grouping is an expectation of the versification system, which makes the perception of symmetry of ABC/ABC line-pairs unfolding in time a good cognitive fit.6 The components 4. This is a Gestalt perceptual explanation. Turner makes a somewhat different (but not necessarily incompatible) argument: that language is used symmetrically based on human embodiedness and metaphorical conceptualization (1991: 69–72). 5. Although same-order repetitive patterning (ABC/ABC) is not inherently closed, if the pattern is cognitively structured by the listener/reader as a symmetrical whole as it unfolds, then the emerging pattern is inherently closed (section 6.2). The norm for biblical ABC/ABC line-pairs is symmetrical organization; i.e., symmetrical line-pairs are a convention of biblical poetry. This does not mean that every line-pair is fully symmetrical, or that every line-pair should be (see section 5.4). Rather, line-pairs that have same-order repetitive patterning (ABC/ABC) are accompanied by the expectation for the listener/reader to cognitively structure the pattern as (closed) same-order symmetry. This expectation, however, can be contextually modified or thwarted. 6. Contrast metrical poetry, in which each line is patterned according to an external template and must be perceived as a rhythmic whole. Metrical phonological line- patterns are patterns of recurrence, line after line. Symmetrical patterning, however, is not simply repeated occurrence because it requires the perception of a whole. Metrical poetries must use their own devices of setting up wholes (e.g., line-end rhyme) to exploit symmetry at various levels of structure. Symmetry is not to be equated with “parallelism,” but symmetry does account for many things that get called “parallelism.” Unfortunately, studies of parallelism in comparative literature rarely take into account whether a versification system is metrical or free rhythm, but the free-rhythm part-whole nature of biblical poetry (i.e., its versification system of lines emerging within line-groupings) is integral to its exploitation of symmetry in verse structure. [ 110 ] Gestalt Principles
of symmetrical line-pairs (represented by the letters A, B, and C) can be any component of language: lexical or prosodic words, syntactic constituents or larger syntactic units (e.g., clauses), prosodic phrases, or semantic units. These components correspond with each other according to various kinds of language similarity (phonological, morphological, syntactic, semantic).7 Furthermore, at a higher level, lines and stanzas can themselves be organized as symmetrical components. As we will see, the two basic possibilities of aural symmetrical ordering combined with the many possible language components and aspects of language similarity can produce a great variety of poetic structures and effects.
5.2. A SAMPLING OF SYMMETRICAL LINE-P AIRS
The examples of symmetrical line-pairs in this section demonstrate that symmetrical arrangement of line-pairs in biblical poetry takes many forms, depending on (1) symmetrical ordering (same or reverse), (2) which components of the text are organized, and (3) which aspects of language similarity are relevant to the components of the symmetry. Furthermore, the semantic relationships between lines of symmetrical line-pairs are quite varied. Psalm 23:2 is strongly symmetrical, organizing multiple aspects of language: TEXT 5.1 binʾôt dešeʾ yarbîṣēnî In-pastures-of vegetation he-makes-lie-down-me.
2a
ִּבנְ ֣אֹות ֶּ֭ד ֶׁשא יַ ְר ִּב ֵיצ֑נִ י
ʿal-mê mənūḥôt yənahălēnî 2b By~waters-of resting-places he-leads-me.
ל־מי ְמנֻ ֣חֹות יְ נַ ֲה ֵ ֽלנִ י׃ ֖ ֵ ַע
Whether we analyze the symmetrical components as prosodic words (ABC/ ABC) or syntactic constituents (AB/AB, i.e., PP V /PP V), similarities of components abound.8 These include the following: 7. Symmetry’s potential for (perceptible) line structure is based on similarity, not difference; we must not confuse structure based on similarity with poetic effects based on degree of similarity or dissimilarity, as we will see in the textual examples in this chapter. This cognitive approach to symmetry is in contrast to Berlin’s approach to parallelism, which moves to effects before establishing line structure; see especially her discussion of “equivalence” and “contrast” (1985: 11–13). See further section 8.2, on poetic structure and poetic function confusion. 8. The prosodic phrasing according to the disjunctive accents is slightly different between the lines but not conflicting with the symmetry: (binʾôt dešeʾ) (yarbîṣēnî)| /(ʿal- mê mənūḥôt yənahălēnî)|.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 111 ]
• the similarity of ʿal-mê (“by waters of”) to binʾôt (“in pastures of”) morphologically (preposition +noun in construct) and semantically (place of drink / place of food) • the similarity of ʿal-mê mənūḥôt (“by waters of resting places”) to binʾôt dešeʾ (“in pastures of vegetation”) syntactically (prepositional phrase) and semantically (ideal place of provision) • the similarity of yənahălēnî (“he leads me”) to yarbîṣēnî (“he makes me lie down”) morphologically (impf. 3ms, with 1cs suffix) and semantically (shepherding action) Each component of the symmetry fits into place in the organized whole. The result is a twofold description of how the good shepherd shepherds; the lines represent two distinct actions. The symmetry of Deuteronomy 32:1 can also be organized prosodic word to prosodic word (ABC/ABC); however, unlike Ps 23:2, the syntax of the two lines does not correspond (V Voc V /V S O).9 TEXT 5.2 haʾăzînû haššāmayim waʾădabbērâ Give-ear, O-heavens, that-I-may-speak,
1a
ַה ֲא ִ ֥זינּו ַה ָּׁש ַ ֖מיִם וַ ֲא ַד ֵ ּ֑ב ָרה
wǝtišmaʿ hāʾāreṣ ʾimrê-pî And-let-hear the-earth the-words-of~my-mouth.
1b
י־פי׃ ֽ ִ וְ ִת ְׁש ַ ֥מע ָה ָ ֖א ֶרץ ִא ְמ ֵר
The A components, haʾăzînû (“give ear”) and wǝtišmaʿ (“and let hear”), are similar in mood (imperative/jussive) and are lexical synonyms. The B components, haššāmayim (“the heavens”) and hāʾāreṣ (“the earth”), are a merism, two contrasting domains that together make up the totality of the cosmos. As a pair they can be inherently symmetrical as two corresponding parts of a whole.10 The similarities of the C components, waʾădabbērâ (“that I may speak”) and ʾimrê-pî (“the words of my mouth”), include the grammatical first person and the semantic notion of speech. The whole of the line-pair describes a single speech event (the C components) in which both the heavens and the earth are commanded to listen; the semantic symmetry of the whole hinges upon this 9. The similarity in prosodic phrasing (phrase shapes of 2 words +1 word) aids the perception of the symmetry, which is based on word-to-word correspondences. 10. Turner speaks of opposites as symmetrical in Greek and Western thought (1991: 79–80). I am not convinced that pairs of “opposites” in Biblical Hebrew are inherently symmetrical, since they do not necessarily refer to a conceptual totality. Merism, however, is a frequently-used convention in Biblical Hebrew, and it does represent a symmetrical relationship: two contrasting (but categorically the same) nouns that together make up a whole. Antithetical pairs are distinct from merism, and they can also be used in symmetrical organization, as in Prov 10:1, text 5.3. [ 112 ] Gestalt Principles
single speech act with a twofold audience (which represents all hearers, divine and creaturely). We can compare Proverbs 10:1b–c, which also organizes the (ABCD/ABCD) symmetry word by word (here, lexical, not prosodic, words in the MT), without corresponding syntax.11 TEXT 5.3 bēn ḥākām yǝśammaḥ-ʾāb A-son wise makes-glad~a-father,
1b
ח־אב ֑ ָ ֵּב֣ן ָ ֭ח ָכם יְ ַׂש ַּמ
ûbēn kǝsîl tûgat ʾimmô and-a-son (who is) a-dolt (is) grief-of his-mother.
1c
ּתּוג֥ת ִא ּֽמֹו׃ ַ ּובן ְּ֜כ ִ֗סיל ֵ֥
The A component (bēn, “son”) is repeated. The B components are similar in that they are both characterizations: the wise and the fool, a common antithesis of wisdom literature.12 The C components are semantically similar (emotional effects), as are the D components (the parents). Two quite different possible outcomes are arranged in word-to-word symmetry for a purpose: the listener/reader is compelled to compare (and thus become wiser) by viewing these scenarios in light of each other. Each word fits neatly in the symmetrical arrangement, yet the syntactic constituents are not arranged symmetrically. That is, a high degree of difference is present in the syntactic structure in spite of the similarities of the symmetrically arranged components. Furthermore, in spite of the symmetry, the semantic impact of each of the two lines on the subjective listener/reader is unlikely to be the same: making a father glad is (and feels) quite different from being the grief of one’s mother.13 These outcomes are not simply set up as opposites.14 The symmetrical structure of Prov 10:1b–c prompts comparison and provides line structure, but the two lines
11. The B components are different parts of speech, which affects the syntactic structure: ḥākām (“wise”) is an adjective, and kǝsîl (“dolt”) is a noun. 12. We know from context and genre that wise/fool in this line-pair is an antithesis, and that father/mother is not. The point of the proverb is not that fathers are rewarded by wise sons and mothers have to deal with the foolish ones; rather (as Proverbs elsewhere attests), both parents are affected by their son’s behavior. The wise/fool antithesis does not come from the symmetry but from the lexicon and context; symmetry provides the line-structural organization based on similarity of the components. 13. Notice the lack of symmetry in the MT’s reading with regard to number of (accented) prosodic words: tûgat ʾimmô (“grief of his mother”) corresponds with yǝśammaḥ-ʾāb (“makes glad a father”). This reading slows down tûgat ʾimmô, comparatively, in relation to yǝśammaḥ-ʾāb, a performance that I find particularly poignant. The wise son makes his father glad; the foolish son is the grief of his mother. 14. Contrast Lowth’s discussion of this proverb (1825: 20). Most examples of Lowth’s “antithetical parallelism” are line-pairs from the Proverbs that he categorizes based upon semantic opposition of terms or lines (20–22).
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 113 ]
are describing qualitatively different outcomes and may evoke quite different emotional responses—within the sage’s singular intention of motivating wise behavior. In Proverbs 14:31, the word order and prosodic phrase shapes (1 word +2 words) may seem to organize the line-pair in same-order ABC/ABC symmetry by prosodic words/syntactic constituents ((S) (V O)| /(S)| (V O)|).15 The interpretation of the proverb, however, requires the organization of the line-pair in semantic chiastic AB/BA symmetry, by prosodic phrases ((A) (B)| /(B)| (A)|):16 TEXT 5.4 ʿōšēq-dāl ḥērēp ʿōśēhû [A] One-who-exploits~poor [B] insults one-who-made-him,
31a
ק־ּדל ֵח ֵ ֣רף ע ֵ ֹׂ֑שהּו ֭ ָ ֣עֹ ֵ ֽׁש
ûmǝkabbǝdô ḥōnēn ʾebyôn 31b [Bʹ] but-one-who-honors-him17 [Aʹ] is-kind-to needy.
ּו֜ ְמ ַכ ְּב ֗דֹו ח ֵֹנ�֥ן ֶא ְביֽ ֹון׃
If the antecedent of “him” in line 31b is read as the “poor” of line 31a (in a corresponding position in the first prosodic word of its line) rather than as the “one who made him,” the proverb, while still a true statement, falls flat.18 The nonalignment of syntactic shapes and semantic patterns (AB/AB vs. AB/BA) adds complexity to the poetic figure; understanding the proverb’s meaning requires cognitive engagement beyond the typical alignment of prosodic, syntactic, and semantic shapes, an active grappling for the wisdom expressed by the proverb.19 With regard to the semantic shape of the proverb as it unfolds, the chiasm allows the proverb to both begin and end on treatment of the poor (cf. KJV): exploitation of the poor reveals one’s own relationship with God, while true reverence is displayed as care for the poor.
15. The Masoretic Text treats ʿōšēq-dāl as one prosodic word joined with maqqef, with accent retraction on ʿōšēq. With regard to the syntax of 31b, one of the participles must function as the main verb: the unmarked word order for a participle functioning as the main verb is S +participle (BHRG 46.2.2.1). 16. This chiastic symmetry is made possible by the use of four participles and just one finite verb, ḥērēp. The [Aʹ] phrase is a participle followed by an object, like the [A] phrase. Notice that, although the two lines reflect 1+2 word shapes, the two lines in MT differ in intonation shapes: line 31a ends with a major phrase boundary, while line 31b has both a line-internal and a line-end major phrase boundary. 17. The antecedent of “him”—required by the context—is the one who made the poor, God. 18. English translations tend to resolve this tension for the reader by translating ûmǝkabbǝdô in line 31b as the main verb of its clause (with an object suffix) and reordering the words: “But those who are kind to the needy honor him” (NRSV). 19. On poetry as defamiliarizing the habitual, see ch. 7, n90. [ 114 ] Gestalt Principles
Symmetrical organization of line-pairs need not involve syntax or semantics at all. In Judges 5:12a–b, the symmetry is phonological, and the organized components are prosodic words: TEXT 5.5 ʿûrî ʿûrî dǝbôrâ Awake, awake, Deborah!
12a
בֹורה ֔ ָ עּור֙י ְּד ִ עּורי ִ֤
ʿûrî ʿûrî dabbǝrî-šîr Awake, awake, speak~a-song!
12b
י־ׁשיר ֑ ִ ֥ע ִּורי ֖ע ִּורי ַּד ְּב ִר
The unfolding symmetry begins with the repetition of ʿûrî ʿûrî (“awake, awake”) and is completed by sound similarity of the final prosodic word, the clause dabbǝrî-šîr (“speak a song”) in relation to the vocative dǝbôrâ (“Deborah”).20 “Speaking” (d-b-r) a song is not a typical locution in Biblical Hebrew; its use here provides a click of completion to the whole that not just any verb would give. (For contrast, listen to the effect on the whole line-pair with the locution šîrî-šîr, “sing a song.”) In Jonah 2:3 (ET 2:2), the symmetrical arrangement of the line-pair organizes semantic components that are also syntactic clauses: TEXT 5.6 qārāʾtî miṣṣārâ lî ʾel-yhwh wayyaʿănēnî I-called-out from-distress to-me21 to~YHWH, and-he-answered-me.
3b
הו֖ה ַו�ּֽיַ ֲע ֵנ֑נִ י ָ ְאתי ִמ ָ ּ֥צ ָרה ִ ֛לי ֶאל־י ִ ָ֠ק ָר
mibbeṭen šǝʾôl šiwwaʿtî šāmaʿtā qôlî 3c From-the-belly-of Sheol I-cried-for-help; you-heard my-voice.
קֹולי׃ ֽ ִ ִמ ֶּב ֶ֧טן ְׁש ֛אֹול ִׁשַּו ְ֖ע ִּתי ָׁש ַ ֥מ ְע ָּת
The clausal components in both lines can be paraphrased as follows: (A) I prayed from a distressing situation; (B) YHWH responded. This provides the pattern for the AB/AB symmetry of the whole, even though the prosodic phrases of the two lines do not correspond rhythmically (4 +1 words/3 +2 words).22 The line-pair is a semantic whole: it is not referring to two separate instances in which the prophet prayed and God answered, but to a single event. The 20. The spirantization of b in Tiberian Hebrew reflects a relatively late phenomenon, not the ancient pronunciation. 21. I.e., “from my distress.” 22. These lines are longer than typical lines in biblical poetry. Line 3b emerges as a unity because the segmentation into unequal parts (4 +1) results in integration of the parts; see section 7.3. Line 3c emerges as a unity not only in relation to the symmetrical whole of 3b–c, but also because of the sound similarities that draw together the two words šiwwaʿtî and šāmaʿtā across the prosodic phrase boundary.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 115 ]
lines recount the event in two distinct ways, and the line-pair can be organized symmetrically through the semantic components (corresponding with clauses) of prayer and response. Symmetrical line-pairs can arrange semantic components line structurally even without syntactic correspondence. We considered Judges 5:25 in sections 4.1 and 4.2, and we can now return to it. TEXT 5.7 mayim šāʾal ḥālāb nātānâ (For) water he-asked, milk she-gave;
25a
ַ ֥מיִם ָׁש ַ ֖אל ָח ָל֣ב נָ ָ ֑תנָ ה
bǝsēpel ʾaddîrîm hiqrîbâ ḥemʾâ in-a-bowl (for) mighty-ones, she- brought curds.23
25b
ְּב ֵ ֥ס ֶפל ַא ִּד ִ ֖ירים ִה ְק ִ ֥ר ָיבה ֶח ְמ ָ ֽאה׃
I argued in 4.1 and 4.2 that this verse is best organized as a line-pair, a whole with two parts. The first part communicates that Jael gave Sisera more than he asked for (25a), and the second part that she served it in a way fit for a lord (25b). Each line is made up of two two-word prosodic phrases. The phrase hiqrîbâ ḥemʾâ (“she-brought curds”) in 25b corresponds semantically with ḥālāb nātānâ (“milk she-gave”) in 25a, but the words are in a different order. The latter (ḥālāb nātānâ) is a complete clause in context; the former (hiqrîbâ ḥemʾâ) is not (it is preceded by a prepositional phrase). The symmetrically arranged semantic components of this line-pair do not simply correspond with syntactic units. The symmetry of the whole organizes two semantic components of each line: (1) Jael’s action of bringing milk and (2) Jael’s action as hospitable. The first semantic component corresponds with the second prosodic phrase in each line, while the second semantic component must be derived from the whole of each line, not just a piece of each line (in contrast to Jonah 2:3, text 5.6).24 The whole line-pair structures one event (the serving of the milk), which is arranged symmetrically based on these semantic components. This event is described in Judg 4:19 in prose narrative, in which Sisera asked for water and Jael opened a leather bottle of milk and gave him a drink. The song includes an element absent from (and irrelevant to) the narrative: how Jael served the milk to this mighty, important man, Sisera.25 (Surely she didn’t hand him a “milk 23. In biblical Hebrew, ḥemʾâ is a milk product and can include a range of products like butter, cream, curdled milk, and curds (HALOT 1: 325; BDB 326). In Isa 7:22 it is associated with abundance. On milk (especially in the narrative account) within the mothering themes of Judg 4–5, see Sasson 2014: 267–68, 316–23. 24. The prosodic phrasing is key to the mental organization of the components of the semantic symmetry. 25. As poetic verbal art, the song says both less and more than the narrative. The song does not mention that Sisera meets his demise while asleep (due to his battle exhaustion, Judg 4:21, and possibly brought on by Jael’s serving of milk, 4:19). Rather, [ 116 ] Gestalt Principles
jug.”) Up to this point, the song has mentioned Sisera only once (in 5:20, where the stars are fighting against him), and even in the account of his demise (5:25– 27), he is not named until line 26c. The detail in line 25b about Jael serving “him” fine milk in a magnificent bowl—poetically structured in the context of Jael’s hospitality—subtly reminds us who this man is who has entered Jael’s tent. This is a mighty warrior—the kind of man you serve in abundance with a magnificent vessel—who is about to fall dead at Jael’s feet.26 It is semantic symmetry (similarity of certain components according to semantic aspects, organized in relation to the whole) that allows us to mentally structure these two lines as a line-pair,27 but we completely miss the artistry of the line-pair if we take semantic symmetry to mean that the lines are somehow “synonymous.” Each line makes its own contribution to the poem.28 the sleeping Sisera vanishes in the poem altogether as the song (figuratively) shapes his demise as a mighty warrior bowing and falling between the triumphant Jael’s feet (5:27); see text 5.11. 26. The noun ʾaddîrîm (“mighty ones”) is also used in this song in 5:13. I read Judg 5:11, 13 as a description of the Israelite peasants of the hill country going down to battle against the mighty Canaanite warriors of the cities (Stager 1988: 226, among other scholars). This interpretation fits the context of the song and provides a link between the two instances of ʾaddîrîm (“mighty ones”) in the poem. 27. Notice that the whole of each line is incorporated into the semantic symmetry of the line-pair: there are no segments of the line left out of the components. By semantic symmetry of a line-pair, I am referring not to lexical/semantic patterning of some of the words/phrases but to a semantic structuring of the whole line-pair that accounts for the line structure. Symmetrical patterns at a higher level, however, may be organized based on prominent components of lines within in a larger whole; see the following footnote. 28. Semantic symmetry is a distinct structuring device. Looser semantic similarity is not the same as semantic symmetry, but it may serve its own structural purposes. It is not necessary or beneficial to try to make semantic similarity symmetrical by deep structure; the surface order of the components in a line matters to poetic structure. Consider, e.g., Isa 62:8–9: ʾim-ʾettēn ʾet-dǝgānēk ʿôd maʾăkāl lǝʾōyǝbayik Never~will-I-give ‹o.m.›~your-grain again (as) food for-your-enemies, wǝʾim-yištû bǝnê-nēkār tîrôšēk ʾăšer yāgaʿatt bô nor~will-drink sons-of~foreigner your- fresh-wine which you-toiled for-it. kî mǝʾaspāyw yōʾkǝluhû wǝhillû ʾet-yhwh But those-who-harvest-it will-eat-it and- praise ‹o.m.›~YHWH, ûmǝqabbǝṣāyw yištuhû bǝḥaṣrôt qodšî and-those-who-gather-it shall-drink-it in- the-courts-of my-holiness.
8c
֙ת־ּדגָ נֵ֙ ְך ֤עֹוד ַ ֽמ ֲא ָכל ְ ם־א ֵּתן֩ ֶא ֶ ִא א ַ֔יְביִ ְך ֹ ֣ ְל
8d
ירֹוׁשְך ֲא ֶ ׁ֥שר ֵ֔ וְ ִאם־יִ ְׁש ּ֤תּו ְב ֵנֽי־נֵ ָכ ֙ר ִ ּֽת יָ ַג ַ֖ע ְּת ּֽבֹו׃
9a
הו֑ה ָ ְאכ ֔ ֻלהּו וְ ִ ֽה ְל ֖לּו ֶאת־י ְ ֹ ִ ּ֤כי ְמ ַא ְס ָפ ֙יו י
9b
ּוֽ ְמ ַק ְּב ָ ֥ציו יִ ְׁש ֻ ּ֖תהּו ְּב ַח ְצ ֥רֹות ָק ְד ִ ֽׁשי׃ ס
Lines 8c and 8d are semantically similar, but they are not structured as a whole line- pair with semantic symmetry (i.e., similarity of both components and position). They
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 117 ]
We can now also return to the semantic questions of Judges 5:26 raised in section 4.1. How should we understand the semantic similarities between components of the lines in relation to the semantic structure of whole line-pairs? These issues must be teased out in context. TEXT 5.8 yādāh layyātēd tišlaḥnâ Her-hand for-the-tent-peg reached,
26a
יָ ָד ּ֙ה ַלּיָ ֵ ֣תד ִּת ְׁש ֔ ַל ְחנָ ה
wîmînāh lǝhalmût ʿămēlîm and-her-right-hand for-a-hammer-of workmen [ ];
26b
ימ ָינּ֖ה ְל ַה ְל ֣מּות ֲע ֵמ ִ ֑לים ִ ִ ֽו
wǝhālǝmâ sîsǝrāʾ māḥăqâ rōʾšô and-she-hammered Sisera, she-smote his-head,
26c
אׁשֹו ֔ ֹ �ֲקה ר ֣ ָ יס ָר ֙א ָמח ְ וְ ָה ְל ָ ֤מה ִ ֽס
ûmāḥăṣâ wǝḥālǝpâ raqqātô and-she-struck and-pierced his-temple.
26d
ּומ ֲח ָ ֥צה וְ ָח ְל ָ ֖פה ַר ָּק ֽתֹו׃ ָ
The line-pair 26a–b is arranged in syntactic symmetry, as well as semantic symmetry that corresponds with the syntactic components: hand –for- implement –reached. The verb tišlaḥnâ (“reached”) is elided from the second line: it does “double-duty” for both clauses.29 The tent peg (yātēd) corresponds with the workman’s hammer (halmût ʿămēlîm), as distinct implements in Sisera’s killing (cf. Judg 4:21). It is common for yād (“hand”) to be coreferential with yāmîn (“right hand”) when they are paired in symmetrical lines, but
can be organized as a line-pair by line-initial repetition (ʾim, “never”/“not”), but it is the differences between the components of the two lines—the non-symmetry of both syntax and semantics—that foreground a key (lexical/morphological) similarity between two words of the lines: dǝgānēk, “your grain,” and tîrôšēk, “your fresh wine” (which contextually represent the totality of food and drink). The foregrounded (prominent) similarity of these two components is salient for the poetic structure of the larger four-line whole: it allows us to mentally organize it in an A/B/Aʹ/Bʹ symmetrical pattern, based upon the alternation between grain (A) and wine (B), eating (Aʹ) and drinking (Bʹ). (The line-initial/partial symmetry of 9a–b also facilitates this mental organization.) Similarly, in the four-line figure of Deut 32:42, the line-pair 42a–b is arranged with neither syntactic nor semantic symmetry. (There is similarity of components but not of position: ABC/BAC.) The lines are similar, but it is the foregrounded correspondence of the line-final dām (“blood,” 42a) and bāśār (“flesh,” 42b)—the only correspondence between the lines of both meaning and position—that allows us to structure the four- line whole in an A/B/Aʹ/Bʹ symmetrical pattern (blood/flesh/blood/[implicit flesh]). This non-continuous mental organization of the syntax (42c depends on 42a, and 42d on 42b) is facilitated by the repetition of middām (“from blood”) from 42a at the beginning of 42c. For a recent discussion of these two texts as biblical “alternation,” see Chavel 2022. 29. On the terminology of grammatical ellipsis, see Miller-Naudé 2013: 808. [ 118 ] Gestalt Principles
the nature of symmetry does not require it.30 Symmetry simply requires some aspect of similarity between components, not equivalence.31 The context of the whole informs the semantic relations between components. Thus, there is no reason here that lines 26a and 26b cannot represent distinct actions structured as a unified event.32 Given the context, we would naturally envision Jael’s actions as involving left-hand/right-hand symmetry (which is permitted within the lexical semantics of the nouns). The line-pair 26c–d is arranged according to semantic symmetry, which structures a single event: Jael mortally wounding Sisera in the head. In the prose account (Judg 4:21), Jael drove (t-q-ʿ) the tent peg into Sisera’s temple so that it went down into the ground. The song does not use this verb; instead, it uses successive verbs to achieve this “driving” effect. The symmetry of the line-pair is structured chiastically (AB/BA) according to two distinct semantic components (use of implement =A, wounding =B). The verb hālǝmâ (“hammered”) corresponds with the verb ḥālǝpâ (“pierced”): both actions result from the symmetrically paired implements of 26a–b. The verb māḥăqâ (“smote”) corresponds with the verb māḥăṣâ (“struck”); both words mean to smite or wound severely.33 Each pair of verbs also shares similarities of sounds. Because of the chiastic arrangement of the actions, the line-pair starts with Jael hammering Sisera (with the hammer) and ends with his temple pierced (by the peg). (This results in an overall chiastic arrangement in 26a–d of peg/hammer/hammer/peg that further unifies the four lines.) The four verbs of 26c–d do not represent four distinct chronological actions (though it is not unlikely that Jael had to deliver multiple blows). Rather, they symmetrically structure the unified event as a progression of images with a shifting focus: Sisera hammered, head wounded, /(temple) wounded, temple pierced. The objective of this section has been to show through a variety of examples that symmetry in line-pairs can organize diverse components of language (lexical or prosodic words, prosodic phrases, syntactic constituents, clauses, semantic units) according to various kinds of similarities in language (phonological, morphological, syntactic, semantic). The principle of symmetry accounts for the poetic structure of these lines: how it is that they can be perceived as patterned lines. These line-pairs are quite different from each
30. Cf. Pss 89:26; 138:7; and Isa 48:13, cited by Berlin 1985: 15. As with English “hand,” Hebrew yād can refer to either right or left. In line-pairs with verbal ellipsis in biblical poetry, the corresponding constituents are usually coreferential but need not be (C. L. Miller 2007a: 169). 31. Contrast Berlin 1985: 15. 32. Likewise, Greenstein 1983: 64–65. 33. The former is a by-form or Aramaic form of the latter and is used only here in Biblical Hebrew (HALOT 1: 571).
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 119 ]
other: the forms they take, whether the patterning of each whole has a semantic aspect or not, their potential effects in their respective poems. Yet they all share the same basic kind of patterning: symmetry.
5.3. THE EQUILIBRIUM OF SYMMETRY
Symmetrical wholes have an inherent equilibrium or stability. In section 5.1 I quoted Tsur, who describes perceptual symmetry as “the state of rest . . . due to the equal action of opposing perceptual forces” (2008: 118n1). Biblical poetry exploits this equilibrium for artistry in various contextual ways. In this section I discuss two examples from the book of the prophet Micah and another example from Judges 5. In section 4.4 we examined the pattern of Micah 1:7a–c (text 4.17), which intensifies for three lines and then abruptly stops with the particle kî (“for”) at the beginning of 7d. Lines 7d–e, in contrast, are arranged symmetrically. In the expanding pattern of the line-triple (7a–c), we can describe the perceptual forces as directed or pushing forward. These forces are eventually stopped by change (the beginning of line 7d). Within the symmetrical line-pair (7d–e), however, the forces are equal and opposed: the perceptual forces (created by the mental organization of the whole line-pair) that push forward are countered by those that push back. The equal opposing forces of the symmetrical line-pair thus stabilize the line-pair as it becomes complete. If the symmetrical line-pair is mentally structured as an emerging symmetrical whole, the stability or equilibrium of the line-pair can be felt.34 TEXT 5.9 wǝkol-pǝsîlêhā yukkattû And-all~her-images will-be-crushed,
7a
֣יה יֻ ַּ֗כּתּו ָ ל־ּפ ִס ֶיל ְ וְ ָכ
wǝkol-ʾetnannêhā yiśśārǝpû bāʾēš and-all~her-wages will-be-burned in-the-fire,
7b
יה יִ ָּׂש ְר ֣פּו ָב ֵ֔אׁש ָ֙ ֶ֙ל־א ְתנַ ּנ ֶ וְ ָכ
wǝkol-ʿăṣabbêhā ʾāśîm šǝmāmâ and-all~her-idols I-will-make desolation—
7c
יה ָא ִ ׂ֣שים ְׁש ָמ ָ ֑מה ָ ל־ע ַצ ֶ ּ֖ב ֲ וְ ָכ
kî mēʾetnan zônâ qibbāṣâ for from-wage-of harlot she-gathered
7d
֠ ִּכי ֵמ ֶא ְת ַנ�֤ן זֹונָ ֙ה ִק ָּ֔ב ָצה
wǝʿad-ʾetnan zônâ yāšûbû and-to~wage-of harlot they-will-return.
7e
זֹונ֖ה יָ ֽׁשּובּו׃ ָ ד־א ְת ַנ�֥ן ֶ וְ ַע
34. While symmetrical wholes have an inherent stability or equilibrium, this does not mean that symmetrical line-pairs in biblical poetry are rigidly limited to particular contextual effects, as we shall see. [ 120 ] Gestalt Principles
The ABC/ABC patterning of 7d–e, like the intensification pattern of 7a–c, uses syntactic patterning and lexical repetition. But 7d–e has a very different feel from 7a–c. The line-pair does not abruptly stop at its end; it becomes complete and stable. In the larger context, the symmetrical line-pair stops the momentum of the judgment (1:6-7c) and stabilizes the whole figure. Like the intensification of the destruction in 7a–c, the stability of 7d–e correlates with the message. In 7a–c, the prophet connects the idols of Samaria to harlot wages, that is, the gain that she (as metaphorical harlot) has received in her faithless alliances with other gods and their nations.35 These idols will be destroyed in the coming judgment (7a, c), and the wages or earnings “burned” (7b). Yet it was common for a conquering nation to claim the idols of the conquered, or at least their stripped precious materials (Isa 40:19–20), as spoils of war (cf. Andersen and Freedman 2000: 184). Lines 7d–e thus shape the final outcome of Samaria’s destroyed idols as a “return”—from harlot wages back to harlot wages. The final use of “harlot” may refer to either literal (cultic) or figurative idolatrous prostitution by the enemy nation.36 The symmetry of lines 7d–e sets up this scenario as a fitting course for these idols: we can “feel” the stabilization of the figure even before we tease out what this terse and opaque line-pair means. The concept of the judgment as appropriate and fitting (a recurring theme in Micah) has semantic stability. This semantic stability corresponds with the stability that can be felt in the shapes of poetry, as the intensifying pattern of judgment (7a–c) gives way to the stable symmetrical line-pair of explanation (7d–e). The symmetrical patterning not only allows us to structure the line-pair; its equilibrium contributes to the artistry and felt experience of the poem. As I mentioned earlier (section 5.1), even though ABC/ABC patterns are not inherently closed, in biblical poetic line-groupings, they rarely keep going to become ABC/ABC/ABC patterns. Symmetrical organization of ABC/ABC lines is the norm. Micah 3:9–12, however, provides an example in which the prophet exploits the lack of equilibrium in an ABC/ABC/ABC line-triple (11a–c). TEXT 5.10 šimʿû-nāʾ zōʾt rāʾšê bêt yaʿăqōb 9a Listen-to~ this, heads-of house-of Jacob,
אׁשי ֵּב֣ית ֙ ֵ עּו־נ֣א ֗ז ֹאת ָר ָ ִׁש ְמ יַ ֲע ֔קֹב
ûqǝṣînê bêt yiśrāʾēl and-leaders-of house-of Israel,
9b
ּוק ִצ ֵינ֖י ֵּב֣ית יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֑אל ְ
hamătaʿăbîm mišpāṭ who-abhor justice
9c
ַ ֽה ֲמ ַת ֲע ִ ֣בים ִמ ְׁש ֔ ָּפט
35. The nouns, pǝsîlêhā/ʾetnannêhā/ʿăṣabbêhā (“her images/wages/idols”), are not “synonymous” through parallelism; rather, their corresponding placement in the patterning brings together the related images of idolatry and prostitution (thus too Andersen and Freedman 2000: 181). 36. See the commentaries for various interpretations of these harlot wages.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 121 ]
ל־היְ ָׁש ָ ֖רה יְ ַע ֵ ּֽקׁשּו׃ ַ וְ ֵ ֥את ָּכ
wǝʾēt kol-hayǝšārâ yǝʿaqqēšû and-‹o.m.› everything~straight they-twist.
9d
bōnê ṣiyyôn bǝdāmîm (One)-builds Zion37 with-bloodshed,
10a
ּב ֶֹנ֥ה ִצּי֖ ֹון ְּב ָד ִ ֑מים
wîrûšālaim bǝʿawlâ and-Jerusalem with-injustice.
10b
ירּוׁש ַל֖םִ ְּב ַעוְ ָ ֽלה׃ ָ ִו
rāʾšêhā bǝšōḥad yišpōṭû Her-heads for-a-bribe administer-judgment,
11a
יה׀ ְּב ׁ֣ש ֹ ַחד יִ ְׁש ֗ ֹּפטּו ָ אׁש ֣ ֶ ָר
wǝkōhănêhā bimḥîr yôrû and-her-priests for-a-price instruct,
11b
יֹורּו ֔ יה ִּב ְמ ִ ֣חיר ָ֙ ֶ֙וְ כ ֲֹהנ
ûnǝbîʾêhā bǝkesep yiqsōmû and-her-prophets for-money divine;
11c
יה ְּב ֶכ ֶ֣סף יִ ְק ֑סֹמּו ָ יא ֖ ֶ ּונְ ִב
wǝʿal-yhwh yiššāʿēnû lēʾmōr and-upon~YHWH they-lean, saying,
11d
מר ֹ ֔ וְ ַעל־יְ הוָ ֙ה יִ ָּׁש ֵע֣נּו ֵלא
hălôʾ yhwh bǝqirbēnû “Is-not YHWH in-our-midst?
11e
ֲה ֤לֹוא יְ הוָ ֙ה ְּב ִק ְר ֵּ֔בנּו
lōʾ-tābôʾ ʿālênû rāʿâ Not~will-come upon-us evil38!”
11f
א־ת ֥בֹוא ָע ֵל֖ינּו ָר ָ ֽעה׃ ָ ֹ ֽל
lākēn biglalkem ṣiyyôn śādê tēḥārēš 12a ָל ֵ ֙כן ִּבגְ ַל ְל ֶ֔כם ִצּי֖ ֹון ָׂש ֶ ֣דה ֵ ֽת ָח ֵ ֑רׁש Therefore, on-account-of-you, Zion (as-a-)field will-be-plowed, wîrûšālaim ʿiyyîn tihyê and-Jerusalem heap-of-ruins will-be,
12b
ירּוׁש ַל ֙םִ ִע ִּי֣ין ִ ּֽת ְה ֶ֔יה ָ֙ ִו
wǝhar habbayit lǝbāmôt yāʿar and-mount-of the-house for-heights forest.39
12c
וְ ַ ֥הר ַה ַ ּ֖ביִת ְל ָב ֥מֹות ָי ַֽער׃
This is a passage of indictment of Israel’s corrupt leaders. Verse 9 is a unified whole of two line-pairs (discussed further in 5.5, text 5.25), and v. 10 is a symmetrical line-pair (with verbal ellipsis in the b-line). Lines 11a and 11b do not emerge as a stable symmetrical line-pair: the ABC pattern repeats in 11c, producing on ABC/ABC/ABC three-line figure.40 The ABC components of
37. The unexplicit subject can be translated as an English passive: “Zion is built with . . .” 38. I.e., “evil” in the sense of disaster or calamity. 39. I.e., “and the Mount of the Temple (will become) forested heights.” Bāmôt can refer simply to “heights,” or it can refer to cultic or religious “high places.” 40. The “simplest” way to organize 11a–c is as an integrated three-line whole, not as a symmetrical line-pair followed by another matching line. The organization of 11a–c as a three-part whole requires a (mental or vocal) performance that does not close the shape after the second part; it must anticipate the line-triple. This could be realized according to various vocal strategies. [ 122 ] Gestalt Principles
the three lines strongly correspond (in morphology/syntax/lexical semantics), and they lack any progression (in contrast to Mic 1:7a–c).41 The threefold group of leaders—judges, priests, and prophets—are doing precisely the same (as underscored by the linguistic correspondences) despicable thing: abusing their power for personal profit. Because the line-triple lacks the symmetry of an ABC/ABC line-pair, it lacks the equilibrium or state of rest that is so common in symmetrical line-pairs in which the components correspond so closely. That is, there is precise correspondence between components of the lines but no equilibrium of the whole. Perceptual forces are not pushing forward (as in Mic 1:7a–c), nor are opposing internal perceptual forces stabilizing the figure (as in Mic 1:7d–e). It is unclear what the perceptual forces are doing in this emerging figure, or if there are any. The figure is not moving and has no direction; neither is it stable or complete. The actively organizing listener/reader expects more of an artful figure, some kind of resolution into a meaningful shape. The following line, 11d, is conjoined to the preceding clauses. The expansion of the figure strengthens our hunch that the line-triple uncertainties will somehow resolve, yet the poem introduces a new kind of uncertainty as more lines unfold, this time through questionable (semantic) stability in the imagery. These corrupt leaders are leaning, or supporting themselves, on YHWH (11d)! They ask, “Isn’t YHWH in our midst?” (line 11e, a reference to the temple in Jerusalem). They presume to be leaning upon YHWH (11d), so they declare that no evil calamity will come upon them (11f). Note the A/B/ A arrangement of lines 11d–f, with ʿal-yhwh (“upon YHWH”) in line 11d and ʿālênû (“upon us”) in line 11f, framing the question of YHWH’s presence in their midst in the center line (11e). This line-triple has a slight symmetry to it, and it introduces an unresolved problem at a different level. The question of YHWH’s presence in their midst, in the mouths of the corrupt leaders, is the prophet’s implicit rhetorical question: Do you really think YHWH is in the midst of your corruption and injustice? And by further implication: When the calamity falls on you, will you really have anything to lean on? The need for resolution is now twofold: resolution of both uncertain poetic form (11a–c) and the corrupt leaders’ unfounded (and thus unstable) reliance on YHWH (11d–f ). The twofold resolution finally comes in 12a–c, in three lines of judgment, introduced with “therefore, because of you . . . ” (lākēn biglalkem). These three lines can be anticipated, both logically and as poetic resolution to the uncertain poetic form introduced by 11a–c. The poetic form stabilizes as the nine-line whole emerges as a complete stable symmetrical figure, with equilibrium of the whole: threefold accusation (11a–c), A/B/A organization of 11d–f, threefold judgment (12a–c). The shaky moral reliance on YHWH in the midst of corruption reaches conceptual stabilization with the judgment of the final 41. This is simply a pattern of repetition, not a pattern of continuation with meaningful movement (see section 6.1).
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 123 ]
three lines. As in Mic 1:7d–e, the prophet arranges his words so that his audience can hear, in both the content of the message and the shapes of the words, that this judgment appropriately fits the offense.42 Similar to how the ABC/ABC/ABC line-triple in Mic 3:11a–c lacks movement or equilibrium and creates an expectation for something more, an incomplete ABC/ABC line-pair lacks equilibrium and may create the expectation for resolution. Because symmetry in biblical poetry must unfold in time, partial symmetry of two contiguous lines can be effectively resolved as a symmetrical line-triple. This happens in Judges 5:27 (the conclusion of the account of Sisera’s demise): TEXT 5.11 bên raglêhā kāraʿ nāpal šākāb 27a Between her-feet, he-bowed, he-fell, he-lay.
יה ָּכ ַ ֥רע נָ ַ ֖פל ָׁש ָ ֑כב ָ ֵּב֣ין ַרגְ ֔ ֶל
bên raglêhā kāraʿ nāpāl Between her-feet, he-bowed, he-fell—
27b
יה ָּכ ַ ֣רע נָ ֔ ָפל ָ֙ ֵּב֤ין ַרגְ ֶ ֙ל
baʾăšer kāraʿ šām nāpal šādûd where he-bowed—there, he-fell destroyed.
27c
ׁשר ָּכ ַ ֔רע ָ ׁ֖שם נָ ַ ֥פל ָׁש ֽדּוד׃ ֣ ֶ ַּב ֲא
Line 27b is an incomplete repetition of line 27a (a degree of repetition not common in biblical poetry). Heard in relation to 27a, the repetition stops short, thereby creating an expectation for some kind of resolution of the incompleteness. The resolution takes the form of a three-line symmetry. Line 27c begins with the phrase baʾăšer kāraʿ (“where he-bowed”), which corresponds to the initial phrase of 27a/27b, bên raglêhā (“between her-feet”): both are adverbial phrases of location referring to the same place. The next word of line 27c, šām (“there”), an adverb of location, refers to “where he bowed” (immediately preceding), and thus has a semantic connection to the third word of the first two lines, kāraʿ (“he-bowed”). The fourth word of line 27c is nāpal (“he-fell”), as in lines 27a and 27b: this is the word on which line 27b left us lingering in thwarted expectation. But this time, the anticipated resolution comes. The final word in line 27c (šādûd, “destroyed”) corresponds through
42. There is another overlapping set of tensions that gets set up and resolved in Mic 3:9–12. The symmetrical line-pair of v. 10 says that Zion is built with bloodshed, and Jerusalem with injustice. In the fitting judgment (12a–b), Zion is plowed as a field (with the result that the blood is covered by earth; cf. Lev 17:13), and Jerusalem becomes a heap of ruins (completely “unbuilt”). The third piece of the judgment, not set up by v. 10, that the Temple Mount becomes forested “high places,” recalls the leaders’ false confidence in YHWH’s presence, which was understood to be in his temple (11e). Because the third piece of the judgment was not part of the previous Zion/Jerusalem symmetry (v. 10) and was not previously explicitly mentioned (it was only alluded to in 11e), the Temple Mount judgment stands out prominently, as less expected or “new.” This is part of Micah’s artistry in transitioning to a new section: the Temple Mount is foregrounded and then becomes the centerpiece of the next unit (4:1). [ 124 ] Gestalt Principles
sound similarity with the final word of 27a (šākāb, “he-lay”), providing the long-awaited missing piece of the symmetry. The conclusion and completion that was denied by 27b is provided by 27c. Instability gives way to equilibrium, as the incomplete symmetry of the line-pair 27a–b is resolved in the symmetry of the whole line-triple.43
5.4. WEAKER SYMMETRY, NEAR-S YMMETRY, PARTIAL SYMMETRY
We have seen that symmetry is a specific kind of organized similarity: regardless of which aspects of language symmetry organizes, it involves both similarity of components and similarity of their location in the whole. But we have also seen that even though symmetry is particular in its organization, it does not have to be “perfect” to function as a perceptual organizing principle. For example, in Judges 5:26c–d (text 5.8), sîsǝrāʾ (“Sisera”) adds slight asymmetry to the surface structure, but it does not prevent us from symmetrically structuring the line-pair.44 Similarly, in Micah 3:11d–f (text 5.10), the line-triple is only weakly symmetrical, yet the symmetry of the line-triple is still a crucial organizing factor in the nine-line whole (3:11a–12c). Not many structures in biblical poetry are crafted with “perfect” symmetry. (If exact repetition alone counts as “perfect” symmetry, no structures in biblical poetry are.) As in visual art, the overuse of “perfect” or even strong symmetry would get quite dull. There is an overall expectation for development in the lines of biblical poetry, not an expectation for perfect equilibrium in line-pair after line-pair. Symmetry can meaningfully be described as weaker or stronger, or as near-symmetry, or partial symmetry. These symmetry variations still allow the listener/reader to mentally structure lines, but they affect the artistry of the poems in various ways. Symmetry in its varying forms must be appreciated in literary context. In this section we will look at variations on symmetry in one extended passage of symmetrical line-pairs, as well as the phenomenon of syntactic ellipsis as it relates to symmetry. The seven line-pairs of Balaam’s first oracle, Numbers 23:7–10, all have symmetrical structure, but with considerable variation.45
43. Moreover, šādûd (“destroyed”) marks the end of Sisera and thereby provides semantic closure for the stanza. 44. The slight asymmetry serves its own artistic function. The naming of Sisera in the account of his demise is delayed until this climactic moment; the slight asymmetry of the line-pair as artistry must be heard in the context of not just the line-pair but also in the context of the whole poem. 45. This oracle of Balaam is identified as a māshāl, which can be translated here as “discourse” (Num 23:7). For a brief discussion of whether māshāl refers to content or form, see Levine 2000: 102–3. On māshāl as a type of illocutionary act, see Vayntrub 2019: 88–89.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 125 ]
TEXT 5.12 min-ʾărām yanḥēnî bālāq From~Aram led-me Balak;
7b
ן־א ָרם יַ נְ ֵ֙חנִ י ָב ָל֤ק ֲ ֠ ִמ
melek-môʾāb mēharrê-qedem the-king-of~Moab [led-me] from-the-hills-of~the-east.
7c
י־ק ֶדם ֔ ֶ ְך־מֹוא ֙ב ֵ ֽמ ַה ְר ֵר ָ ֶ ֽמ ֶל
lǝkâ ʾārâ-lî46 yaʿăqōb “Come, curse~for-me Jacob,
7d
ה־ּלי יַ ֲע ֔קֹב ֣ ִ ְל ָכ ֙ה ָ ֽא ָר
ûlǝkâ zōʿămâ yiśrāʾēl and-come, denounce Israel!”
7e
ּול ָ ֖כה ז ֲֹע ָ ֥מה יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֽאל׃ ְ
mâ ʾeqqōb lōʾ qabbōh ʾēl How shall-I-curse not has-cursed-him God,47
8a
ָ ֣מה ֶא ּ֔קֹב ֥ל ֹא ַק ּ֖בֹה ֵ ֑אל
ûmâ ʾezʿōm lōʾ zāʿam yhwh and-how shall-I-denounce not has-denounced YHWH?
8b
הוה׃ ֽ ָ ְּומה ֶאזְ ֔עֹם ֥ל ֹא זָ ַ ֖עם י ָ֣
kî-mērōʾš ṣurîm ʾerʾennû For~from-top-of rocks I-see-him,
9a
י־מ ֤ר ֹאׁש ֻצ ִר ֙ים ֶא ְר ֶ֔אּנּו ֵ ִ ּֽכ
ûmiggǝbāʿôt ʾăšûrennû and-from-hills I-behold-him:
9b
ׁשּורּנּו ֑ ֶ ּומּגְ ָב ֖עֹות ֲא ִ
hen-ʿām lǝbādād yiškōn Lo!~a-people (who) apart dwells,
9c
ן־ע ֙ם ְל ָב ָ ֣דד יִ ְׁש ּ֔כֹן ָ ֶה
ûbaggôyim lōʾ yitḥaššāb 9d and-(who)-among-the-nations is-not reckoned.48
יִת ַח ָ ּֽׁשב׃ ְ ּובּגֹויִ ֖ם ֥ל ֹא ַ
mî mānâ ʿăpar yaʿăqōb Who has-counted the-dust-of Jacob,
10a
ִ ֤מי ָמנָ ֙ה ֲע ַ ֣פר יַ ֲע ֔קֹב
ûmispār ʾet-rōbaʿ yiśrāʾēl and-the-number49 with-regard-to50~the-fourth- part-of Israel?
10b
ּומ ְס ָ ּ֖פר ֶאת־ ֣ר ֹ ַבע יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֑אל ִ
tāmōt napšî môt yǝšārîm Let-die my-self a-death-of upright-ones,
10c
ׁשי ֣מֹות יְ ָׁש ִ ֔רים ֙ ִ מת נַ ְפ ֹ ֤ ָּת
46. Alternatively, vocalized ʾorâ-lî; see HALOT 1: 91. 47. “God” is the subject of the relative clause: i.e., “whom God has not cursed,” likewise in line 8b, “whom YHWH has not denounced.” 48. Or, “does not reckon itself.” 49. The clause has a coordinate object, which can be translated “Who has counted the dust . . . or the number. . . .” The locution “to count the number” is also found in Ps 147:4. On the different textual traditions, see the discussion. 50. I.e., not even a fourth of Israel can be counted. The particle ʾet here functions as an “adverbial accusative of limitation” (IBHS, 10.3.1c, p. 181). For proposed emendations, see the discussion. [ 126 ] Gestalt Principles
ûtǝhî ʾaḥărîtî kāmōhû and-let-be my-future51 as-his!
10d
מהּו׃ ֹ ֽ יתי ָּכ ֖ ִ ּות ִ ֥הי ַא ֲח ִר ְ
Each of the seven line-pairs of this oracle can be organized by symmetry, though the line-pairs differ in the strength of symmetry. Lines 7b–c are arranged with syntactic (chiastic) symmetry with ellipsis of the verb from the second line (PP V S /S [V]PP). The listener/reader must fill in the grammatically required verb based on the context of the coordinate clauses. (Ellipsis is a normal syntactic phenomenon of language processing that biblical poetry often exploits.) Notice that the chiastic arrangement creates a different and overlapping shape of similarity within the line-pair: it pairs up the names of the two nations at the beginnings of the lines (min-ʾărām “from~Aram”/*malk- môʾāb “king-of~Moab”). Lines 7d–e have slight asymmetry in that line 7d has a small prepositional phrase (lî, “for me”) that 7e does not have. We should not smooth out the difference, projecting the prepositional phrase into the second line because of symmetrical line structure. The prepositional phrase is not grammatically required.52 The difference between the two lines is subtle but provides an opportunity for development in context. Do we hear the second line as a bolder statement out of the mouth of Balak? “Curse him!” (7e) may strike us as more forceful than “Curse him for me!” (7d). Or, we might notice that the second line takes the focus off of Balak as instigator, in a movement from Balak’s personal motivations (7b–c) to God’s bigger purposes (8a–b). Balak has brought Balaam to curse Israel, while God has brought Balaam to speak blessing to Israel (because Israel is already blessed by God). Lines 8a–b are the most strongly symmetrical line-pair in the oracle. The symmetry is at multiple levels of language. The corresponding components between the lines are words, but there is another corresponding pattern between the lines that further strengthens the symmetry: line-internal repetition of the verb (ʾeqqōb lōʾ qabbōh “I curse . . . not cursed”/ʾezʿōm lōʾ zāʿam “I denounce . . . not denounced”).53 Balaam speaks the lines as a rhetorical 51. The noun ʾaḥărît means “end,” but not necessarily in the sense of “the end.” It refers more generally to a latter time or the future (BDB: 31; HALOT 1: 36-37). Compare Num 24:20, in which Amalek’s “future” (i.e., his “end”)—in contrast to his initial (“beginning”) status—is to perish. 52. Ellipsis refers to constructions in which grammatically required elements are omitted (Miller-Naudé 2013: 807). The rules of grammatical ellipsis—how native speakers fill in missing words—operate on syntactic structures, not poetic lines, though poetic structure affects the constraints on ellipsis (C. L. Miller 2007a: 167, 176–77). 53. Notice that the oracle weakens the potential four-line (A/B/Aʹ/Bʹ) symmetry in lines 7d–8b by using different words for “curse” in 7d and 8a. Though the line-pairs are semantically integrated, the oracle as a whole is structured in line-pairs, not larger groupings.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 127 ]
question to Balak, and the implication is clear and undeniable (at least, to Balaam and the omniscient narrator).54 Here, strong symmetry aligns with certainty.55 The two line-pairs of v. 9 are also structured symmetrically, but not as strongly. The symmetry of 9a–b is syntactic (without word-to-word correspondence). In 9c–d, the symmetry is weak but still allows us to structure the line-pair. Line 9d is an (unmarked) relative clause conjoined to the relative clause in 9c; the final components share the grammatical construction of adverb +imperfect verb, but the initial corresponding components have only semantic similarity (ʿām “people”/gôyim “nations”). The two line-pairs of v. 10 have presented the most challenges of this oracle for parallelistic approaches to biblical poetry. In the line-pair 10a–b, according to the Masoretic Text, the second line is a grammatical object conjoined to the object in 10a.56 Some ancient textual traditions (Smr, LXX) preserve or reflect the reading *ûmî sāpar (“and-who has-numbered”) instead of ûmispār (“and-the-number”) in 10b. This variant reading strengthens the line-initial correspondence, but it does not resolve the organization of the remainder of line 10b in relation to 10a.57 The perceived problem with the ancient readings (MT/Smr/LXX) for modern scholars is the lack of synonymous parallelism between the lines and the odd pairing of the components (which is also an issue for a symmetrical approach to these lines): if the verb mānâ (“has-counted”) corresponds with the noun mispār (“number”)—or, with *ûmî sāpar (“and-who has-numbered”) of Smr/LXX—and yaʿăqōb (“Jacob”) corresponds with yiśraʾil (“Israel”), it is not clear how ʿăpar (“dust-of”) corresponds with ʾet-rōbaʿ (“the- fourth-part-of”).58 Many scholars have emended the text to solve these perceived problems with the poetic lines.59 For our purposes here, the question 54. On the omniscient narrator in biblical narrative, see Sternberg 1985: 34, 58–185. 55. We cannot assume that strong symmetry always corresponds with certainty, but it should not surprise us if strong stable shapes contribute to a sense of certainty. See the discussion in section 5.7 of Judg 5:4–5 in contrast to Judg 5:6 (texts 5.40 and 5.41). 56. It is not necessary to analyze this line-pair as two clauses with verbal ellipsis. This utterance is distinct from grammatically incomplete utterances in which there is a structural hole or gap (C. L. Miller 2007a: 165n3; Miller-Naudé 2013: 807). 57. The variant reading raises the following issues: (1) If the lines are to be organized by syntactic symmetry, why does the line-initial symmetry not continue? (This is a question related to both poetic structure and effects, and I do not have an answer to explain the structure/effects of this reading.) (2) What is the grammatical or pragmatic reason for the use of the object marker in the second line? (The MT reading does not raise this question, since the particle ʾet is functioning as an adverbial accusative.) 58. Hebrew rōbaʿ occurs in 2 Kgs 6:25 with the meaning “a fourth part, a quarter.” Some scholars rule out the possibility of the particle ʾet in archaic poetry (e.g., Milgrom 1990: 197). 59. BHS prefers the reading *ûmî sāpar instead of ûmispār, with Smr and LXX, and suggests some emendations for ʾet-rōbaʿ. On various possibilities for emending ʾet-rōbaʿ to make it correspond with ʿăpar, see Levine 2000: 176–77. The most common of these is a proposed cognate based on Akkadian, tarbuʾu/turbû/turbuʾtu, “dust-cloud” (Cohen [ 128 ] Gestalt Principles
is whether the lines of the Masoretic Text can be heard as organized poetic lines in a part-whole relationship, and if so, how.60 That is, should we prefer a different reading on the basis of poetic form? We have seen that the symmetries of line-pairs do not have to correspond with syntax. Here, however, the most natural organization of the lines is according to syntax: mispār (“number”) corresponds with ʿăpar (“the-dust-of”), not with mānâ (“has-counted”). These are the correspondences that emerge based on the syntactic shapes: mî mānâ
ʿăpar ûmispār
Who has-counted
the-dust-of Jacob, and-the-number with-regard-to~the-fourth- part-of Israel?
yaʿăqōb ʾet-rōbaʿ yiśrāʾēl
Compare the sounds of the historical forms: *mī manâ
ʿapar *wamaspar
yaʿqub ʾit-rubʿ yiśraʾil
This line-pair is arranged through partial symmetry, according to syntactic and phonological correspondences, not the lexical correspondences of mānâ/ mispār and yaʿăqōb/yiśraʾil. It has the pattern of ABC/BCD.61 The lines also share semantic structure—no one can count the people of Israel (an allusion to the blessing of Gen 13:16)—but the poetic structure of the line-pair is patterned on surface structure similarities, not this semantic similarity. Symmetrical organization in biblical poetry is based not on a template but on emerging patterning. If we organize this poetic figure based on how the patterning contextually emerges and allow for correspondences from components of any aspect of language (not just “synonymous parallelism”), the line-pair emerges as a patterned whole. In the line-pair 10c–d, the lines are only partially symmetrical. While both lines begin with a jussive verb followed by a first-person suffixed noun subject, the potential third components do not match as syntactic constituents, nor does môt yǝšārîm (“a-death-of upright-ones”) share many similarities with 1978: 37–39). According to this reading, the image in line 10b is that of an army on the march stirring up a great cloud of dust (Levine 2000: 176). 60. On the issues of the Smr/LXX reading, see n57 above. 61. Some scholars might call this a terrace pattern; see Watson 2005: 208–9. Watson, however, limits the terrace pattern to word repetition. The pattern here is not simply a kind of repetition or similarity. It is a variation on symmetry (exploiting the coordination/symmetry of the syntactic phrasing for line structure) and is operating at multiple levels of language. The lexical correspondences, while they contribute to the shared semantic structure, are not salient to the ABC/BCD patterning of the whole.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 129 ]
kāmōhû (“as-him”)—although “upright ones” and “him” both refer to Israel.62 The final components of the lines can be organized loosely in relation to each other, but there is no obvious click of completion at the end of the line-pair. Even the line-internal sound repetitions (m/t/š in 10c and t/h/ḥ/î in 10d) abruptly stop with the final word kāmōhû (“like-his”): tāmōt napšî môt yǝšārîm (historical forms: *tamut napšî mawt yašarīm) ûtǝhî ʾaḥărîtî kāmōhû The final word kāmōhû (“as-him”) does not fit neatly into either the line-pair symmetry or the line-internal sound similarities. It resists tidy completion of the line-pair, and because of its difference from the local sound patterning, it further stands out (in Gestalt language) as figure to ground.63 To make sense of kāmōhû (“as-him”) and how the line-pair emerges as a coherent whole, we must explore the semantic relationships between the lines, and the relationships of the lines with their literary context, both of which are complex. With respect to the semantic relationship between these two lines, synonymous parallelism predisposes scholars to view “death” (môt) in the first line as parallel to “end” (ʾaḥărîtî) in the second.64 In context, however, Balaam is not speaking of Israel’s death or afterlife. Rather, he is alluding to the future of Israel (which, we learn from subsequent oracles, will be successful and blessed).65 These lines are not “synonymously parallel,” but they are arranged in partial symmetry by components (syntactic constituents: V S O /V S PP). The component paired with ʾaḥărîtî (“my end, my future”) is not môt (“death”), but napšî (“my self,” “my life”). Yet if aḥărîtî is not about death but about a blessed future, why is there an emphasis on “death” in line 10c (the root m- w-t is used twice) that is absent from line 10d? Understanding the line-pair requires reading it in its larger literary context. Just as lines 10a–b allude to YHWH’s blessing of Israel that cannot be revoked (Gen 13:16; 28:14), lines 10c–d allude to previous blessings. As others have noted, Balaam is receiving the blessing of those who bless Israel: “I [God] will bless those who bless you, and those who curse you I will curse” (Gen 12:3; cf. Num 24:9).66 There are no
62. Phonological similarity based on a shared consonant (môt yǝšārîm/kāmōhû) seems to me a stretch. The historical form of môt is *mawt; thus the “o” vowels are not similar. BHS proposes solving this problem (presumably of deficient parallelism) by emending to kāhēm, “like them.” 63. On Gestalt figure-ground organization, see Peterson 2015. 64. Cf. Milgrom 1990: 197, who translates ʾaḥărîtî as “fate.” Levine argues that ʾaḥărîtî in this verse refers to “afterlife,” based on the Ugaritic cognate (2000: 178). Noth cannot make sense of these “unsuitable concluding lines” and so attributes them to a later hand, with no further explanation (1968: 184). 65. See n51 above. 66. E.g., Milgrom 1990: 205. [ 130 ] Gestalt Principles
curses for Israel in this oracle, contrary to what Balak was expecting (Num 23:11). The only curse in this oracle is found in this line-pair (tāmōt napšî môt, “let-die my-self a-death-of”), a curse on Balaam himself. But this curse on Balaam is turned to blessing (mid-line!), because the curser has instead become a blesser. Balaam’s blessing is to die the death of the upright ones (YHWH’s covenant people): in literary context, a death that is not from disease.67 The first component of the next line, Num 23:10d, corresponds with 10c insofar as both verbs are jussive. Is this jussive verb likewise part of a blessing? Numbers 23:10d is not about Balaam’s end but about his future: ʾaḥărît is not inherently positive or negative. Balaam is a professional diviner, with a widespread reputation for effectively cursing and blessing (Num 22:6). Thus, Balaam’s future is inevitably wrapped up in Israel’s future: insofar as Balaam blesses Israel (as he does in these oracles), his future is also blessed. The line 10d seems to end on a positive note, foreshadowing more blessings of Israel in Balaam’s oracles still to come. Yet this line, like 10c, hovers between curse and blessing, and herein lies the unifying twist: Balaam’s future will be “as Israel’s.” As the narrative unfolds, Balaam’s future ultimately is wrapped up in the judgment of Israel for the covenant faithlessness that he instigates.68 Thus, partial symmetry of the line-pair is initiated through the syntax, according to the corresponding jussive verbs (of curse or blessing) and the corresponding nouns (“my life”/ “my future”), but the integration of the whole line-pair must be resolved semantically by understanding the interplay of blessing and curse upon Balaam, contingent upon the role he has played and will play. But what should we make of the final word, kāmōhû (“as-him”), and how it prominently stands out (as figure to ground) from the line-internal sound similarities? A possibility is that this prominence provides the contextual 67. While “doing what is right” (in YHWH’s eyes) becomes an important theme in Deuteronomy (cf. 6:18 and 9:5, in connection with the possession of the land) and subsequent books, the root y-š-r is only sparsely used prior to Deuteronomy: twice in the Balaam passages (here and in Num 23:27) and once in the blessing of Exod 15:26. There, the blessing of healing and not being stricken by disease is promised by YHWH to his covenant people in return for their obedience to his commands and covenant faithfulness. If Num 23:10c alludes to yet another earlier blessing, which seems likely given the multiple allusions to blessings in these oracles, the “death of the upright ones”—YHWH’s loyal and obedient covenant people—is death after a healthy life, the absence of death from disease. The irony as the narrative unfolds is that Balaam indeed does not die from the plague that sweeps through the Israelite camp for their failure to keep the covenant and be faithful to YHWH (25:8–9); rather, he dies by the sword of Israel for his part in advising Midian to lead Israel into the worship of Baal (31:8, 16). 68. Again, there is irony here. The judgment for Israel’s participation in Baal worship eventually falls on Balaam too, who succeeds in interfering with Israel’s blessedness (Num 31:8, 16). On the narrative art of the Balaam account, see Sternberg 1985: 315. We should not view Num 23:10c–d simply as Balaam’s wishes for himself within the narrative (i.e., “I hope my future is as blessed as his”). The narrator goes to great lengths to present Balaam as a man of effectively powerful words and to present these oracles as words that YHWH himself has given to Balaam.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 131 ]
equivalent of special formatting in English translation: the words stand out. It is not hard to imagine the line-pair being performed this way: “Let me die the death of the upright, and let my future be like his!” Though the line-pair does not end with equilibrium or tidy completion, it potentially finishes the oracle with a pronounced ending. The following line-pairs, Judges 5:14c–d and 17c–18b, are from the account of the tribes’ volunteer responses in Deborah’s song. The line-pairs of Judg 5:14c–d and 18a–b (as well as Num 23:7b–c, in text 5.12) exhibit the linguistic phenomenon of ellipsis, an important aspect of syntax often exploited by biblical poetry in various ways for line structure. TEXT 5.13 minnî mākîr yārǝdû mǝḥōqǝqîm From Machir came-down rulers,
14c
דּו ְמ ֣חֹ ְק ִ֔קים ֙ ִמ ִּנ֣י ָמ ִ֗כיר ָי ְ�ֽר
ûmizzǝbûlūn mōšǝkîm bǝšēbeṭ sōpēr and-from-Zebulun [came-down] those- who-march with-staff-of office.
14d
בּולן מ ְֹׁש ִ ֖כים ְּב ֵ ׁ֥ש ֶבט ס ֵ ֹֽפר׃ ֻ ֔ ְּומּז ִ֙
...
...
ʾāšēr yāšab lǝḥôp yammîm Asher dwelt at-shore-of sea,
17c
יַּמים ִ֔ ָא ֵׁ֗שר יָ ַׁש ֙ב ְל ֣חֹוף
wǝʿal miprāṣāyw yiškôn and-by its-harbors settled.
17d
וְ ַ ֥על ִמ ְפ ָר ָ ֖ציו יִ ְׁש ּֽכֹון׃
zǝbūlûn ʿam ḥērēp napšô lāmût 18a Zebulun (was) a-people (that) reproached its-life to-death,
זְ ֻב ֗לּון ַע֣ם ֵח ֵ ֥רף נַ ְפ ׁ֛שֹו ָל ֖מּות
wǝnaptālî ʿal mǝrômê śādê and-Naphtali [too],69 upon heights-of open-field.
18b
רֹומי ָׂש ֶ ֽדה׃ ֥ ֵ וְ נַ ְפ ָּת ִ ֑לי ַ ֖על ְמ
Ellipsis refers to the omission of grammatically required elements of a clause that must be filled in by the listener/reader.70 It requires coordinate (i.e., not 69. The entire predicate of 18a is elided from 18b, represented by “too” in translation, which coincides with a major phrase boundary of the verse. 70. Miller-Naudé has laid the foundation of linguistic study of ellipsis in Biblical Hebrew through a series of articles (C. L. Miller 2003, 2005, 2007a, 2007b, 2007c, 2008b, Miller- Naudé 2011; see also C. L. Miller 2008a, Miller- Naudé 2013). Grammatical ellipsis is distinct from contextually elliptical utterances, which are contextually (rather than grammatically) incomplete (2013: 807–8). With Miller-Naudé, I analyze clause breaks between lines involving ellipsis only where there is a fragmentation in the surface syntax that requires the restoration of the “missing” elements (contrast Greenstein 1983: 52–53). This eliminates the possibility of ellipsis in many lines of conjoined or appositional phrases (Miller-Naudé 2011: 332–33). [ 132 ] Gestalt Principles
subordinate) and matching (either same-order or chiastic) syntactic structures.71 Ellipsis is a syntactic phenomenon, not a phenomenon of poetic structure: that is, the rules of ellipsis operate in the realm of syntax, not the poetic line, though the constraints on ellipsis are affected by poetic structure.72 In Judg 5:14d, the verb yārǝdû (“came down”) is elided; the verb is grammatically necessary to complete the clause and must be filled in from 14c. In line 17d, however, the absence of the explicit subject ʾāšēr (“Asher”) is not considered ellipsis because it is not grammatically required. (The verb form has an implicit third- person singular subject.) In 18a–b the entire predicate of 18a (ʿam ḥērēp napšô lāmût, “(was) a-people (that) reproached its-life to-death”) is elided from 18b.73 Ellipsis is an interesting variable in the part-whole structuring of biblical poetic lines because of two interrelated but potentially conflicting perceptual aspects. On the one hand, it binds together two coordinate syntactic structures through a “double-duty” linguistic unit (e.g., a verb that is elided from one of the matching clauses), potentially strengthening the unity of the whole. On the other hand, ellipsis fragments the surface structure of one of the coordinate structures, potentially weakening the symmetry (and thus
71. For a summary of syntactic requirements, see Miller-Naudé 2013: 808–10. Holmstedt has recently proposed that “synonymous parallelism” is syntactically a nonrestrictive apposition (2019), and thus that most cases of ellipsis in biblical poetry occur in parenthetical rather than coordinate structures (2021: 95, 99). I argue throughout this book, however, that syntax alone is inadequate to account for biblical poetic structure: the art of the relationships between lines cannot and should not be reduced to a binary choice between apposition and non-apposition (contrast 2019: 641). My Gestalt approach to symmetrical line-figures that exploit ellipsis is consistent with the syntactic requirement that ellipsis operate across coordinate structures. 72. Ellipsis is well suited to syntactically symmetrical line-pairs, but the coordinate structures of ellipsis may or may not correspond with poetic lines. See, e.g., Ps 20:8 (ET 20:7), which is three clauses spread over two lines, with the backward-elided verb in final position in the third clause. Miller-Naudé attributes the relaxing of two constraints on verbal ellipsis in biblical poetry to “parallelism”—which I would call, specifically, symmetrical line-figures. First, biblical poetry, unlike biblical prose, allows non-contrastive, coreferential constituents, and second, biblical poetry, unlike biblical prose, allows a non-local antecedent (2013: 810). Holmstedt 2021: 90–97 challenges the latter. A detailed discussion is outside the scope of this book, but in my view, the role of symmetry in the poetic structure of specific texts supports Miller-Naudé’s claim. In both cases, the part-whole structuring of symmetrical figures contributes to these phenomena. I.e., the versification system of biblical poetry impacts the syntactic constraints on ellipsis. 73. Ellipsis in biblical Hebrew requires coordinate and matching syntactic structures, but it is not always clear in what ways two conjuncts must match for ellipsis to take place (C. L. Miller 2007a: 172). Miller-Naudé views cases like Ps 48:7 (ET 48:6) as “swapping”; i.e., part of the first line is elided forward, and part of the second line is elided backward (C. L. Miller 2007a: 172). If we read Judg 5:18a–b in this way, with the predicate of 18a deleted forward and the line-final prepositional phrase of 18b deleted backward (which is possible from clause-final position), the underlying matching coordinate structure is preserved: “Zebulun (was) a-people (that) reproached its-life to-death [upon heights-of the-open-field], /and-Naphtali [(was) a-people (that) reproached its-life to-death] upon heights-of the-open-field.”
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 133 ]
the unity) of the whole coordinate structure. For example, in Judg 5:14c–d, the surface structure symmetry is slightly weakened, but the two lines are still tightly bound together. In lines 18a–b, the surface structure symmetry is extremely weak (the only matching components left are zǝbūlûn/naptālî, “Zebulun”/“Naphtali”), yet the two lines are still bound together semantically and syntactically. An example that exploits both perceptual aspects of ellipsis comes from 2 Samuel 1:21. TEXT 5.14 21a
ָה ֵ ֣רי ַבּגִ ְל ּ֗בֹ ַע
ʾal-ṭal wǝʾal-māṭār ʿălêkem 21b let-not~dew [(be) upon-you] and-let-not~rain (be) upon-you,
ל־מ ָ ֛טר ֲע ֵל ֶיכ֖ם ָ ל־טל וְ ַא ֧ ַ ַא
ûśǝdê tǝrûmōt and-[let-not]-fields-of offerings [(be) upon-you],74
21c
מת ֹ ֑ ּוׂש ֵ ֣די ְתרּו ְ
kî šām nigʿal māgēn gibbôrîm for there was-defiled shield-of warriors,
21d
ּבֹורים ֔ ִ ִִ ּ֣כי ָ ׁ֤שם נִ גְ ַעל֙ ָמ ֵג�֣ן ּג
māgēn šāʾûl bǝlî māšûaḥ75 baššāmen 21e the-shield-of Saul, not anointed with-the-oil.
מׁשוח ַּב ָ ּֽׁש ֶמן׃ ֥ ָמ ֵג�֣ן ָׁש ֔אּול ְּב ִ ֖לי
hārê baggilbōaʿ O-hills in-Gilboa,
This stanza of David’s lament is made up of a line-triple (21a–c) followed by a line-pair (21d–e). Line 21a is a vocative. Line 21b is made up of two coordinate clauses, with ălêkem (“upon-you”) elided from the first. (Backward ellipsis in biblical Hebrew poetry is allowed from clause-final position [Miller-Naudé 74. I follow the most straightforward rendering of MT’s ûśǝdê tǝrûmōt (with ellipsis of the negative particle and prepositional phrase in 21c, forward from 21b), which seems to be the more recent trend (thus NRSV, in contrast to RSV). Many scholars have found this reading, with its curse that there be no fields bearing vegetation that might be used for sacred offerings, “far-fetched and unsatisfactory” (Gordis 1940: 35). On the irreal expressions of vv. 20–21, see text 5.42 for discussion of the complete lament. Some scholars keep the text of the MT and, based on the phrase mǝrômê śādê in Judg 5:18, render 21c “fields of the heights,” parallel to 21a. Whether 21a–c is then read as a tricolon (Freedman 1972: 264, 268) or a bicolon (O’Connor 1997: 231), the waw is treated as an “emphatic particle, here with vocative force” (Freedman 1972: 270). This is a questionable function for waw (see Steiner 2000 on the meaning[s]of waw). A number of conjectural emendations for the sake of better semantic parallelism have been proposed, the most widely accepted based on an Ugaritic parallel, proposed by Ginsberg (1938): “( וׁשרע תהמתnor upsurgings of the deep”), parallel to the phrase “dew . . . rain” in 21b, thus RSV; similarly, R. Gordis’s “( וׁשדי תהמותor flowing of the deeps”) (1940: 35). 75. On this form see n127 in this chapter. [ 134 ] Gestalt Principles
2013: 808].) The line coheres through similarity of sounds: ʾal-ṭal wǝʾal-māṭār ʿălêkem.76 The ellipsis strengthens the unity of the line by drawing the similar sounds closer together and by binding the two clauses together syntactically. Whereas ellipsis in a line-pair might weaken the surface unity of the whole line-pair (through the weakening of the symmetry of the two clauses via fragmentary surface structure), here it strengthens the line, because the coordinate structures are line-internal (not comprising a line-pair). Line 21c is coordinate to the clauses of line 21b and is also a clause with ellipsis, but with very different effect. In 21c, both the negative particle ʾal (“let-not”) and the prepositional phrase ălêkem (“upon-you”) are elided (through forward ellipsis from 21b).77 On the one hand, the ellipsis in 21c allows us to hear 21a–c as a syntactically integrated line-triple. On the other hand, the ellipsis in 21c leaves the surface similarities of 21b and 21c so fragmented that 21b and 21c are simply not perceptibly symmetrical in poetic structure. Instead, 21b strongly coheres line-internally through sounds and syntactic integration, and the line-triple emerges as symmetrical through the similarities of the first and third lines (21a and 21c): the lexical pairing of hārê (“hills”) and śǝdê (“fields”) and the morphological similarities of the two construct phrases. (Symmetry accounts for the use of the construct form of hārê before the preposition here, which is grammatically possible but rare [GKC 421, §130a].) The balance between 21a and 21c, in contrast to the longer line 21b, strengthens the three-line symmetry. These three excerpts have again provided just a sampling of possible variations of symmetry. We could consider many more examples of weaker or stronger symmetry, near-symmetry, and partial symmetry and their effects in biblical poetry. But 2 Sam 1:21 has raised another issue that must be addressed that is of great importance to symmetry and the structuring of biblical poetic lines: balance.
5.5. BALANCE AND LEVELING
In biblical poetry studies, the concept of balance is often tied to metrical numbers (or “rhythm”) or conflated with parallelism.78 Neither of these models is 76. There is overlap of features between /r/and /l/, and possibly between /ʾ/and /ʿ/. 77. On the conditions governing ellipsis of negative particles in biblical poetry, see C. L. Miller 2005: 49–52. For two examples of ellipsis involving negation that strengthens the unity of a line, see Isa 23:4d (a verse with four lines) and Isa 38:18a (a verse with two long lines). The syntax of these examples is discussed by Miller (38 and 49, respectively). 78. Hrushovsky includes balance as an aspect of rhythm, related to parallelism (2007: 599). Compare Lichtenstein’s extended discussion of balance (1984: 115–18) and his definition of parallelism as “the balance between the two halves (or at times the three components) of a poetic line, in terms of either structure or language or thought or, indeed, all of these simultaneously” (115). For analyses of balance in biblical poetry,
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 135 ]
adequate to account for how balance is heard or how it functions in the free- rhythm poetry of the Bible. Balance is not a Gestalt principle of part-whole organization, but it is a perceptual phenomenon, a quality that we perceive, a certain kind of “felt” stability of wholes.79 Balance must not be conflated with symmetry: as I noted above, balance can occur apart from symmetry, though symmetry cannot occur apart from balance. In our own embodied movements (like climbing a hill), or in our actions upon objects (like the careful placement of smooth rocks to build a cairn), we physically experience balance and imbalance, in a remarkable process of sensory-brain communication. In describing a painting, even though nothing in it can physically topple, we can still speak of perceived balance or imbalance in terms of “weight” and “direction” (Arnheim 1974: 23–29). In aural verbal art, the nature of language and its temporality affect how balance can be perceived, and it is not immediately obvious what aspects of language balance might entail. If balance can be considered the even distribution of “weight,” various possibilities might exist for creating “weight” in a particular language, such as quantity of words or syllables, or aspects of word structure, such as stress or length of syllables. The question is which of these possibilities is manifest in the poetic language figures of ancient Hebrew poetry. Because perceptual symmetry requires balance, symmetry provides contexts for us to analyze what contributes to balance in the figures or line-groupings of biblical poetry. In biblical poetry, balance as a state of stability due to the even distribution of “weight” must be felt through heard language. It seems plausible that “weight” would be perceived through surface-structure phonetic realization, and this is indeed what a number of line-pairs indicate. As many scholars have discussed (albeit in the contexts of meter or parallelism), “compensation” is often made for a missing element in a (nearly) symmetrical line-pair, either through an additional element in the line with the missing element, or by a longer element in the line with the missing element.80 For example, in Exodus see also Polak (1996: 62–66), who contrasts the “balancing” of poetry with the continuity of prose, and Fitzgerald (1990: 204), who has a broad view of what aspects of language contribute to balance. On imbalance and rhythm (the so-called qinah meter), see section 7.2. 79. With regard to part-whole organization, segmentation of a whole into parts that are perceived in some way as equal tends to strengthen the perception of the parts (cf. Tsur 2017: 13, 23 on metrical poetry). We have seen this in Jonah 2:4a–c (text 4.9), in which three two-word phrases emerge as parts (lines) of a whole (line-triple). Perception of “equal” (phonological) prosodic parts, however, is not the same thing as perception of balance of the whole. The line-triple of Jonah 2:4a–c as a whole does not emerge as a stable or balanced figure, because of the internal organization of those three parts. 80. For a discussion of the phenomenon of the additional element, which has been called a “ballast variant,” see Watson 2005: 343–48. The misleading idea of “ballast” variation is critiqued by Alter (2011: 26). This phenomenon does not just occur with syntactic ellipsis of a grammatically required element: it occurs also in contexts where [ 136 ] Gestalt Principles
15:2c–d, we find an additional word (in bold) in the predicate in the second line, from which the subject is elided (cf. Judg 5:26a–b, 28a–b): TEXT 5.15 zê ʾēlî wǝʾanwēhû This (is) my-God, and-I-will-glorify-him,
2c
ֶז֤ה ֵא ִ ֙לי וְ ַאנְ ֵ ֔והּו
ʾĕlōhê ʾābî waʾărōmǝmenhû 2d [ ] the-God-of my-father, and-I-will-exalt-him.
ֹלהי ָא ִ ֖בי וַ ֲאר ְֹמ ֶ ֽמנְ הּו׃ ֥ ֵ ֱא
In Micah 3:10a–b, we find a longer first word (in bold) in the second line, from which the verb is elided (cf. Num 24:5; Deut 33:18a–b): TEXT 5.16 bōnê ṣiyyôn bǝdāmîm (One)-builds Zion with-bloodshed,
10a
ּב ֶֹנ֥ה ִצּי֖ ֹון ְּב ָד ִ ֑מים
wîrûšālaim bǝʿawlâ and-[ ]-Jerusalem with-injustice.
10b
ירּוׁש ַל֖םִ ְּב ַעוְ ָ ֽלה׃ ָ ִו
Because these line-pairs are organized according to symmetry, there is an expectation for balance. It seems reasonable to conclude, based on so many line- pairs like these, that both symmetrical line-pairs were heard by their ancient Hebrew audiences as balanced. Though the surface components do not precisely match, the balance of the lines provides the expected sense of stability or equilibrium. But how can both of these line-pairs be heard as balanced in the same system? The answer is not to be found in any metrical theory, though the data from metrical studies is illuminating.81 Consider the counts of stresses (prosodic words) and syllables in each line-pair, found in table 5.1. Weighting in biblical poetry cannot be achieved solely and simply through number of stresses in a line, because Mic 3:10a–b somehow “compensates” for two short words through a longer word (i.e., through additional syllables—we will consider how close syllable counts need to be for perceived balance momentarily). Yet if we try to come up with a formula that includes both stress and syllables in a line’s weight to account for line-pairs like Mic 3:10a–b, then line-pairs like Exod 15:2c–d must be considered imbalanced. Somehow both the number a non-required element is absent from one of the lines, e.g., the vocative in Judg 5:4a– b and the subject in Judg 5:17c–d. 81. The two main metrical systems proposed for biblical poetry measure stresses or syllables. While stress counting has the “advantage” of accounting for more lines as “regular” (thus Fitzgerald 1990: 205–8), the syllabic data of balance in line-pairs (see, e.g., Freedman 1980)—insofar as it is attained with methodological rigor—is not without relevance here.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 137 ]
Table 5.1 STRESS AND SYLL ABLE COUNTS IN EXOD 15:2C–D AND MIC 3:10A–B Exod 15:2c–d
Mic 3:10a–b
Stress Count
3:3
3:2
Syllable Count
7:11
7:8
of words (presumably heard as stressed/prosodic words) and the length of words (presumably heard as clusters of syllables) affect the weight of poetic lines, but not cumulatively.82 We must account for this if we are to understand balance—and just as importantly, imbalance—in biblical poetry. In the differing line-pairs of Exod 15:2c–d and Mic 3:10a–b, the listener must be able to hear a certain aspect of language weight while ignoring the conflicting details of another aspect. The dropping of nonfitting details is something we do regularly in perception; it is one of many devices of a perceptual tendency called “leveling.”83 In many symmetrical line-pairs (e.g., Ps 23:2, Deut 32:1), because the components (often prosodic words) neatly correspond in surface structure, the listener can simply level the syllable differences between corresponding words.84 That is, the prosodic (stressed) word provides both the component of symmetry and the unit of weight, and syllable differences (if they exist) are leveled. In other situations (like Exod 15:2c–d and Mic 3:10a–b), the surface-structure correspondence of components is not so precise. The listener may hear balance as word-stress weight or as syllable weight, but not arbitrarily.85 In Exod 15:2c–d and Mic 3:10a–b, the prosodic 82. I know of no evidence that would suggest that syllables in biblical Hebrew would have been heard as weighted differently based on vowel length or some other syllable property. 83. The tendencies of leveling and sharpening address how a perceiver deals with ambiguity of a stimulus pattern. The two tendencies are actually a single superordinate tendency: “the tendency to make perceptual structure as clear-cut as possible” (Arnheim 1974: 67). Rather than maintain a continuous state of uncertainty, we tend to adjust our perception so as to organize the structure of a shape in an unambiguous way. “Leveling is characterized by such devices as unification, enhancement of symmetry, reduction of structural features, repetition, dropping of nonfitting detail, elimination of obliqueness. Sharpening enhances differences, stresses obliqueness” (67). Leveling and sharpening often occur in the same situation, as certain details are leveled and others are sharpened. For the Gestalt research behind leveling and sharpening, see Wulf 1938. For leveling and sharpening in poetic language, see Tsur 2008: 33–35; 2002: 83n11. 84. It is possible that perceptual isochrony may also be relevant in such contexts; see Tsur 2008: 176. 85. Though English readers may tend to view weight by stress as primary and weight by syllable count as secondary (i.e., a “compensation”), I am not convinced that either weight by stress or weight by syllable quantity is primary for balance in biblical poetry. It does not seem that the listener is supposed to try out stress first, and if it does not work, default to syllables (or vice versa). For one thing, balance in biblical poetry is not [ 138 ] Gestalt Principles
phonological shapes of the lines provide the contextual indicators by which the listener can (nearly effortlessly, it seems) level either syllables or stress in order to hear the lines as balanced, according to the expectation created by the symmetry.86 The following examples further demonstrate the contextual nature of balance in symmetrical line-pairs, and how its perceptibility is influenced by prosodic phrasing. In Judges 5:28a–b, the verbs of the first line are elided from the second line.87 The symmetrical organization corresponds with the prosodic phrasing, and the arrangement of the symmetry is chiastic. The line-pair is balanced by prosodic words/stresses (4:4), not syllables (11:7/8). TEXT 5.17 28a
יַּבב ֛ ֵ ְּב ַעד֩ ַה ַחּל֙ ֹון נִ ְׁש ְק ָ ֧פה וַ ְּת
(ʾēm sîsǝrāʾ) (bǝʿad hāʾešnāb)| 28b (the-mother-of Sisera [ ]) (through the-lattice.)|
יס ָ ֖רא ְּב ַע֣ד ָ ֽה ֶא ְׁש ָנ֑ב ְ ֵ ֥אם ִ ֽס
(bǝʿad haḥallôn nišqǝpâ wattǝyabbēb) (Through the-window she-looked-down and-cried;)
In Judg 5:25a–b, the balance is also achieved through words/stresses (4:4), not syllables (8:10). The symmetry in this verse (which is semantic) likewise corresponds with the prosodic phrasing:
like English meter: it is not a problem that must be resolved. Line-groupings in biblical poetry may be legitimately felt as either balanced or imbalanced; balance is not a perceptual organizing principle or an inherent expectation for every line-grouping. Rather than the primacy of stress or syllables for perception of balance in biblical poetry, the prosodic phonological shapes of the text—in the context of the whole line-pair—seem to provide what is needed to hear balance. 86. Insofar as the prosodic phonological shapes are not absolutely fixed by the language but rather subject in certain ways to a reading tradition, perception of balance has a degree of dependence upon performance. (There is some contextual flexibility in word stress, and the MT represents a particular tradition of reading.) In the MT of Judg 5:12a–b, e.g., the maqqef in the second line encourages balance of weight by stress; cf. Num 24:16a–b. 87. As described in section 5.4, ellipsis in Biblical Hebrew requires coordinate and matching syntactic structures, but it is not always clear in what ways conjuncts in the coordinate structures must match for ellipsis to take place (C. L. Miller 2007a: 172). Here, the subject is not explicitly represented in the first line, as it is in the second line. This line-pair is not an example of “swapping” (see n73, this chapter), because the subject cannot be elided backward from clause-initial position. We might end the first line after nišqǝpâ (“she looked down”), but this does not fit the Masoretic phrasing, nor is it evident why the lines would be so imbalanced. Rather, this line-pair seems to be arranged quite simply with balanced chiastic symmetry, which leaves a structural gap for the verb(s) in line 28b (occurring at a minor phrase boundary). The subject is explicit only in the second line; it is implicitly represented in the 3fs verb forms in the first line. (Even though a wayyiqtol verb form cannot be found mid-clause, the ellipsis of the verbs still meets the constraint of content identity; C. L. Miller 2007a: 170–72.)
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 139 ]
TEXT 5.18 (mayim šāʾal) (ḥālāb nātānâ)| ((For) water he-asked,) (milk she-gave;)|
25a
ַ ֥מיִם ָׁש ַ ֖אל ָח ָל֣ב נָ ָ ֑תנָ ה
(bǝsēpel ʾaddîrîm) (hiqrîbâ ḥemʾâ)| 25b ְּב ֵ ֥ס ֶפל ַא ִּד ִ ֖ירים ִה ְק ִ ֥ר ָיבה ֶח ְמ ָ ֽאה׃ (in-a-bowl (for) mighty-ones,) (she-brought curds.)| In the next two symmetrical line-pairs, the phrasing of the two lines does not match. Balance must be heard not by leveling of syllables in relation to stressed words but by the relative weight (quantity) of syllables in each line (i.e., by leveling the word/stress differences). In Judges 5:17c–d, the syllable count is 8:7/8: TEXT 5.19 (ʾāšēr)| (yāšab) (lǝḥôp yammîm)| (Asher)| (dwelt) (at-shore-of sea,)|
17c
יַּמים ִ֔ ָא ֵׁ֗שר יָ ַׁש ֙ב ְל ֣חֹוף
(wǝʿal miprāṣāyw) (yiškôn)| (and-by its-harbors) (settled.)|
17d
וְ ַ ֥על ִמ ְפ ָר ָ ֖ציו יִ ְׁש ּֽכֹון׃
In Judg 5:26c–d, the syllable count is 11/12:11: TEXT 5.20 26c
אׁשֹו ֔ ֹ �ֲקה ר ֣ ָ יס ָר ֙א ָמח ְ וְ ָה ְל ָ ֤מה ִ ֽס
(ûmāḥăṣâ wǝḥālǝpâ) (raqqātô)| 26d (and-she-struck and-pierced) (his-temple.)|
ּומ ֲח ָ ֥צה וְ ָח ְל ָ ֖פה ַר ָּק ֽתֹו׃ ָ
(wǝhālǝmâ sîsǝrāʾ) (māḥăqâ rōʾšô)| (and-she-hammered Sisera,) (she-smote his-head,)|
While native English speakers might be predisposed to reading/hearing Judg 5:17c–d and Judg 5:26c–d as imbalanced (due to stress differences), the evidence of “compensation” in symmetrical line-pairs in the biblical texts indicates that the ancient audiences did not. These lines can be performed and heard as balanced, if weight is heard as syllable quantity and the stress differences are leveled. Symmetry creates an expectation for balance, and in these line-pairs, we have no reason to think that that expectation was not met. While a symmetrical line-pair is often balanced through leveling of either syllables or stress, where leveling is necessary, consider the following line-pair from Genesis 49:7a–b, which relies on tight correspondence and phrasing to prompt both kinds of leveling (successively) within a single figure:88
88. With regard to the importance of phrasing in this example, it is perhaps relevant that the tendency for perceptual isochrony is likewise related to intonational [ 140 ] Gestalt Principles
TEXT 5.21 (ʾārûr ʾappām) (kî ʿāz)| (Cursed (is) their-anger,) (for (it was) strong,)|
7a
ָא ֤רּור ַא ָּפ ֙ם ִ ּ֣כי ֔ ָעז
wǝʿebrātām kî qāšātâ (and-[ ]-their-rage,) (for it-was-harsh.)|
7b
וְ ֶע ְב ָר ָ ֖תם ִ ּ֣כי ָק ָ ׁ֑ש ָתה
The stress (4:3) and syllable (6:8) counts for this line-pair are misleading: they do not reflect the balance of corresponding prosodic phrases, which affects the overall balance of the line-pair. In the first half of each line, the listener can hear the balanced syllables (4:4) and level the stress/word difference caused by the elided verb (2:1). In the second half of each line, the listener can hear the balanced stresses/words (2:2) and level the syllable difference (2:4). The result is a balanced line-pair, a met expectation of symmetry. But notice that the balance does not produce a static line-pair: the individual corresponding nouns (ʾappām /ʿebrātām, “their-anger”/“their rage”) and modifiers (ʿāz / qāšātâ, “strong”/“it-was-harsh”) grow in intensity of meaning and phonetic weight. The line-pair has the stability of symmetry and also a growing momentum (see the larger context of this curse on Simeon and Levi). Balance is a versatile tool in the free-rhythm poet’s toolbox. Based on how balance is achieved in the above line-pairs, we can assess how balance may have been perceived in a less evident line-pair. Consider Judges 5:14c–d: TEXT 5.22 14c
דּו ְמ ֣חֹ ְק ִ֔קים ֙ ִמ ִּנ֣י ָמ ִ֗כיר ָי ְ�ֽר
(ûmizzǝbûlūn)| (mōšǝkîm) (bǝšēbeṭ sōpēr)| 14d (and-from-Zebulun)| ([came-down] those- who-march) (with-staff-of office.)|
בּולן מ ְֹׁש ִ ֖כים ְּב ֵ ׁ֥ש ֶבט ס ֵ ֹֽפר׃ ֻ ֔ ְּומּז ִ֙
(minnî mākîr)| (yārǝdû) (mǝḥōqǝqîm)| (from Machir)| (came-down) (rulers,)|
In 5:14c–d, even though the line-pair is balanced by stresses/words (4:4), it may be more likely that balance would have been heard as syllable weight (11:12), since the corresponding symmetrical components are not words and thus the phrase shapes of the two lines differ. In all of these line-pairs, symmetry creates the expectation for balance. We have no reason to think that that expectation was not met for the audience. That is, the question is not whether these lines are balanced but how the balance of the lines was perceived. Unfortunately we lack ancient performances, which would confirm or correct our historical syllable counts and provide contours: it works within intonation contours but not across contour boundaries (Tsur 2008: 175–76).
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 141 ]
us with a more ancient tradition of phrasing and prosodic words than the Masoretic Text can provide. Yet the evidence for two kinds of “compensation” in symmetrical line-pairs (stresses/words and syllables), understood within the perceptual framework of leveling and carefully considered in actual contexts of prosodic phrasing, provides us with a framework for describing balance in biblical line-pairs. Given that balance can be achieved in such a variety of lines, it might seem that the determined listener could conceivably fit any symmetrically organized line-pair into the mold of balance. As we will see, however, this is not the case. Imbalance can be achieved in biblical poetry, and some symmetrically organized line-pairs clearly resist balance. Balance can be described according to the following parameters in a large corpus of symmetrical line-pairs in biblical poetry:89 • Line-pairs (or partial lines/phrases) that are balanced by words/stresses have the same number of stressed words. If these stressed words are of different syllable lengths, multiple syllables per word can be leveled to achieve balance. (E.g., a three-syllable word can balance a one-syllable word.) • Lines (or partial lines/phrases) that are balanced by syllables do not deviate by more than one stress, and they may also deviate by one syllable. That is, where balance is achieved through syllable weight and word/stress difference is leveled, not more than one stress is leveled. (E.g., a 4:2 stress difference is too large to be leveled.) A difference of one syllable does not offset the balance of a line-pair that is balanced by syllables. (E.g., a 7:8 line-pair by syllable count can still be perceived as balanced.) These observations provide a starting place for evaluating balance and imbalance in biblical poetry. The nature and use of balance and imbalance, however, must still be studied contextually in each poem or poetic book.90 Furthermore, we should always attempt first to hear balance and imbalance in the context of phrasing; stress and syllable counts are only helpful insofar as they can be used to understand and describe what we are hearing. Thus far we have only considered balance in symmetrical line-pairs. Balance is also relevant to figures larger than the line-pair. For example, in two line- triples discussed in sections 5.3 and 5.4 (Judg 5:27 and 2 Sam 1:21a–c), the balance of each line-triple is achieved through balance of the first and last 89. The generalizations here apply to my dissertation corpus (Grosser 2013) and the line-groupings discussed in this book, as well as the book of Micah and many other biblical poetic texts. 90. We cannot simply assume that all ancient Hebrew poets of all eras had an identical sense of “acceptable” deviation for balanced lines. Styles change, and so may tolerance for ambiguity; perception of balance might also be affected by music (e.g., in the Psalms). For an example of contextualized study of balance/imbalance, see the discussion of Ps 103, text 6.9 in 6.2. [ 142 ] Gestalt Principles
lines through word/stress weight. The second line of each figure is noticeably different in weight, deviating by one word/stress. Here again is Judges 5:27: TEXT 5.23 bên raglêhā kāraʿ nāpal šākāb Between her-feet, he-bowed, he-fell, he-lay.
27a
יה ָּכ ַ ֥רע נָ ַ ֖פל ָׁש ָ ֑כב ָ ֵּב֣ין ַרגְ ֔ ֶל
bên raglêhā kāraʿ nāpāl Between her-feet, he-bowed, he-fell—
27b
יה ָּכ ַ ֣רע נָ ֔ ָפל ָ֙ ֵּב֤ין ַרגְ ֶ ֙ל
baʾăšer kāraʿ šām nāpal šādûd where he-bowed—there, he-fell destroyed.
27c
ׁשר ָּכ ַ ֔רע ָ ׁ֖שם נָ ַ ֥פל ָׁש ֽדּוד׃ ֣ ֶ ַּב ֲא
Here is 2 Samuel 1:21a–c: TEXT 5.24 hārê baggilbōaʿ O-hills in-Gilboa,
21a
ָה ֵ ֣רי ַבּגִ ְל ּ֗בֹ ַע
ʾal-ṭal wǝʾal-māṭār ʿălêkem let-not~dew [(be) upon-you] and-let-not~rain (be) upon-you,
21b
ל־מ ָ ֛טר ֲע ֵל ֶיכ֖ם ָ ל־טל וְ ַא ֧ ַ ַא
ûśǝdê tǝrûmōt 21c and-[let-not]-fields-of offerings [(be) upon-you],
מת ֹ ֑ ּוׂש ֵ ֣די ְתרּו ְ
In both of these symmetrical line-triples, restored balance (perceived as it unfolds temporally) brings completion to the three-line grouping. Micah 3:9 is a four-line grouping analyzed in section 5.3, and we can revisit it with respect to balance: TEXT 5.25 šimʿû-nāʾ zōʾt rāʾšê bêt yaʿăqōb 9a Listen-to~ this, heads-of house-of Jacob,
אׁשי ֵּב֣ית ֙ ֵ עּו־נ֣א ֗ז ֹאת ָר ָ ִׁש ְמ יַ ֲע ֔קֹב
ûqǝṣînê bêt yiśrāʾēl and-leaders-of house-of Israel,
9b
ּוק ִצ ֵינ֖י ֵּב֣ית יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֑אל ְ
hamătaʿăbîm mišpāṭ who-abhor justice
9c
ַ ֽה ֲמ ַת ֲע ִ ֣בים ִמ ְׁש ֔ ָּפט
wǝʾēt kol-hayǝšārâ yǝʿaqqēšû and-‹o.m.› everything~straight they-twist.
9d
ל־היְ ָׁש ָ ֖רה יְ ַע ֵ ּֽקׁשּו׃ ַ וְ ֵ ֥את ָּכ
The first line- pair is partially symmetrical in organization but without “compensation” for the missing elements.91 The lines are imbalanced (5:3 91. Line 9a does not emerge as two lines, owing to requiredness, the contextual demand of the imperative for a vocative (see section 6.3).
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 143 ]
by words/stresses, and 10:8 by syllables). Lines 9c and 9d differ in morphology/syntax, but they can still be arranged in chiastic symmetry (V O / O V). However, this line-pair too is imbalanced (2:3 by words/stresses and 7:11 by syllables). Both line-pairs thwart the symmetrical expectation for balance—not haphazardly but artfully. Because the first line-pair lacks balance, the partially symmetrical shape does not feel stable or finished. Line 9c continues the figure (syntactically), and though line 9d also thwarts the local (line-pair) expectation for balance, in so doing it stabilizes the whole of the four-line figure. The figure is weighted long –short –short –long, with overall balance.92 The imbalance of the parts (line-pairs) is what brings balance and stability to the whole (line-four). Moreover, the imbalance also provides the poet an opportunity to intensify the fronted object of the final line, through the inclusion of an emphatic object marker (the untranslated particle). A similar effect can be achieved in English through italics: “and everything straight they twist!” With these line-triples and line-four we have ventured into the topic of imbalance, not just balance. To sum up this section on balance before continuing further into imbalance: balance in biblical poetry is a kind of perceived contextual weight, either of prosodic words (stresses) or of syllable quantity (word length). Its perception is integrally related to prosodic phrasing. Balance is not a rule or a template. It can occur in any line-pair (non-symmetrical or symmetrical), but symmetrical line-pairs inherently bring an expectation for balance. Whether this expectation is met or thwarted is part of the artistry of biblical poetry.
5.6. IMBALANCE AND SHARPENING
Whereas leveling is operative in the perception of balance in many symmetrical line-pairs, sharpening is operative when imbalance is perceived. “Sharpening enhances differences. . . . Leveling involves . . . a reduction of the tension inherent in the . . . pattern. Sharpening increases that tension” (Arnheim 1974: 67). Where imbalance is perceived in a symmetrically organized line-pair (i.e., sharpened rather than leveled), it creates a kind of dissonance that can be exploited artistically in various ways. Two-line proverbs in the Bible are often arranged symmetrically; symmetry is an effective tool for tersely constructing wisdom comparisons. Balance plays a role in how we are compelled to interpret Proverbs 10:9:
92. The weight may have been heard as relative weight (imbalanced long–short lines followed by imbalanced short–long lines), but it may not be incidental that the syllable weights of the outer and inner lines are so close (10:8:7:11). [ 144 ] Gestalt Principles
TEXT 5.26 hôlēk battōm yēlek beṭaḥ 9a He-who-walks in-integrity will-walk (with)-security,
הֹולְ֣ך ַ ּ֭בּתֹם ֵי ֶ֣לְך ֶּב ַ֑טח ֵ
9b
ּומ ַע ֵ ּ֥קׁש ְ ּ֜ד ָר ָ֗כיו יִ ּוָ ֵ ֽד ַע׃ ְ
ûmǝʿaqqēš dǝrākāyw yiwwādēaʿ and-he-who-twists his-ways will-be-found-out.
The first component of the symmetry is the subject of each clause, a wisdom literature antithesis (a particular portrait of a righteous man contrasted with one who is wicked): hôlēk battōm (“he-who-walks in-integrity”)/ûmǝʿaqqēš dǝrākāyw (“and-he-who-twists his-ways”). The second component of the symmetry is the predicate, the outcome: yēlek beṭaḥ (“will-walk with-security”) / yiwwādēaʿ (“will-be-found-out”). It is not hard to hear this terse line-pair as balanced, though the type of weight is different for each component of the symmetry: first, stress/words (2:2), not syllables (4:7); second, syllables (3:3), not stress/words (2:1). We can level the differences as the second line unfolds in relation to the first. The phrases of the line-pair fall neatly into this symmetrical organization and balance. Yet the semantic relations are not quite as tidy as the whole proverb feels: the student of wisdom must tease out the meaningful similarities between these character portraits and especially their outcomes to interpret the proverb.93 The clear symmetrical organization and balance provide the cue for the listener/reader to draw the semantic connections that make sense of—and are consistent with—that equilibrium. To put it another way, surface symmetry establishes the felt equilibrium, but the mind still must resolve the meaning. As we organize the semantic pieces in the context of the whole proverb, we realize that “walking in security” refers to more than safety from danger here. It refers to the inner confidence the person of integrity has as he goes through life, because—unlike the devious man—he has no fear of being found out (M. V. Fox 2009: 516). Contrast Proverbs 10:12 with respect to balance: TEXT 5.27 śinʾâ tǝʿôrēr mǝdānîm Hatred stirs-up strife,
12a
עֹורר ְמ ָד ִנ֑ים ֣ ֵ ִ ׂ֭שנְ ָאה ְּת
wǝʿal kol-pǝšāʿîm tǝkassê ʾahăbâ and-over all~offenses covers love.94
12b
ל־ּפ ָׁש ֗ ִעים ְּת ַכ ֶ ּ֥סה ַא ֲה ָ ֽבה׃ ְ ֜ וְ ַ ֥על ָּכ
The components (syntactic constituents) are arranged chiastically (S V O / PP V S); the final noun (ʾahăbâ, “love”) corresponds with the first noun (śinʾâ, 93. BHS treats the semantic “parallels” as problematic, conjecturally proposing yērôaʿ (“will-suffer”) instead of yiwwādēaʿ (“will-be-found-out”). 94. I.e., “but love covers over all offenses.”
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 145 ]
“hatred”) and provides the symmetrical click of completion. The first component of the second line, however, is not terse and offsets the balance. We can analyze the lines by numbers: 3:4 imbalance by stresses/words and 8:11 imbalance by syllables. The question is, as listeners/readers, do we level the difference in phonetic weight (to hear the lines as balanced), or do we sharpen the difference (so that there is a tension between the symmetry and balance)?95 In contrast to other well-balanced lines, the numbers seem to indicate the poet was setting up imbalance. Furthermore, the context supports this. Leveling the imbalance would require that we hear wǝʿal kol-pǝšāʿîm (“and-over all-offenses”) as equally weighted (phonetically) with mǝdānîm (“strife”). But the former is not only phonetically heavier, it is semantically heavier (not just offenses, but all offenses), and it is pragmatically heavier (with clause-initial marked word order).96 The phonetic imbalance is not incidental: it corresponds with other aspects of language and affects the feel of the line-pair. The line-pair is set up symmetrically so that we can structure the outworkings of love and hatred in relation to each other. Yet the line- pair is imbalanced: we can hear “heaviness” in the second line about love (at multiple levels of language) that results in tension with the expected equilibrium. Hatred and love are antithetical, but how they function in society is not. Love works at a different level than hatred (and thus cannot be counterbalanced by it): hatred stirs up conflicts, but love covers over all wrongs that are committed.97 A very different context of imbalance occurs in David’s lament for Saul and Jonathan in 2 Samuel 1:20a–b. TEXT 5.28 ʾal-taggîdû bǝgat Do-not~declare in-Gath,
20a
ל־ּת ִּג֣ידּו ְב ֔ ַגת ַ ַא
ʾal-tǝbaśśǝrû bǝḥûṣōt ʾašqǝlôn do-not~herald in-the-streets-of Ashkelon,
20b
ל־ּת ַב ְּׂש ֖רּו ְּבחּו ֣צֹת ַא ְׁש ְק ֑לֹון ְ ַ ֽא
pen-tiśmaḥnâ bǝnôt pǝlištîm lest~rejoice daughters-of the-Philistines,
20c
ן־ּת ְׂש ַ֙מ ְחנָ ֙ה ְּבנ֣ ֹות ְּפ ִל ְׁש ִּ֔תים ִ ֶּפ
pen-taʿălōzǝnâ bǝnôt hāʿărēlîm lest~exult daughters-of the-uncircumcised.
20d
ן־ּת ֲע ֹ֖לזְ נָ ה ְּבנ֥ ֹות ָה ֲע ֵר ִ ֽלים׃ ַ ֶ ּֽפ
95. The tendency to level or sharpen difference may be a personality trait, or it may be a matter of tools and training in interpretation (Tsur 2008: 34–35). The latter—the use of the appropriate tools for working with ancient Hebrew poetry—is what I am particularly concerned with here. 96. The reader can reorder the second line of the proverb and listen to the contrast between chiastic-order and same-order symmetry. 97. This is not the cover-up of evil (which is called out in the previous verse, 10:11), but the forgiveness of wrongs, a path that does not return hatred with hatred. [ 146 ] Gestalt Principles
The verse is composed of two symmetrically organized line-pairs, but the first, unlike the second, is not balanced (stress/words: 2:3; syllables: 6:11). It would not be hard to balance these lines by switching the placement of “Ashkelon” and “Gath” or by expanding the first line with a word such as šaʿărê (“the- gates-of Gath”). Clearly, balance is not what the poet is trying to achieve here. Balance with symmetrical organization is not a rule but an expectation, and here that expectation is not met. Notice that the arrangement of the lines (shorter –longer) is unlike Judg 5:27 (text 5.23), in which the shorter second line creates the expectation for further completion (it “falls short” of symmetry) and is resolved with a third (longer) line. Here, the longer second line neither “falls short” nor leaves the line-pair feeling unfinished. But the imbalance does weaken the shape of the symmetry. Compare the sound of one of the proposed balanced variations above (in Hebrew or English) with the sound of the actual line-pair. There are places where strong, balanced symmetry can sound trite, and this verse is one of them. The weaker symmetry suits the poignancy of the lament.98 Another quite different example of imbalance within a symmetrically organized line-pair comes from Judges 5:12. TEXT 5.29 ʿûrî ʿûrî dǝbôrâ Awake, awake, Deborah!
12a
בֹורה ֔ ָ עּור֙י ְּד ִ עּורי ִ֤
ʿûrî ʿûrî dabbǝrî-šîr Awake, awake, speak~a-song!
12b
י־ׁשיר ֑ ִ ֥ע ִּורי ֖ע ִּורי ַּד ְּב ִר
qûm bārāq Arise, Baraq!
12c
֥קּום ָּב ָ ֛רק
ûšăbê šebyǝkā ben-ʾăbînōʿam 12d And-take-captive your-captives, son-of~Abinoam!
ן־א ִבי ֹֽנ ַעם׃ ֲ ּוֽ ֲׁש ֵ ֥בה ֶׁש ְביְ ָך֖ ֶּב
Lines 12a and 12b are balanced through stresses/words (3:3) and syllables (7:8). Lines 12c and 12d are quite imbalanced, by stresses/words (2:3) and syllables (3:9/10/11). Line 12c is prominent in its brevity, not just in this four-line figure (where it also stands out with regard to its different prosodic phrasing shape) but also in the entire song (in which it is the shortest line by syllable count). After so much repetition of sounds in lines 12a–b, the contrast of line 12c may sound jarring. This is not “arise, arise, Baraq,” but rather “up, Baraq!” Contextually, this jolt may be just what Barak needs: the narrative portrays him as hesitant and lacking in confidence apart from Deborah’s leadership (Judg 4:8). 98. For an exploration of emotion, certainty, and clear-cut or blurred shapes in poetry, see Tsur 2008: 84–104.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 147 ]
Balance and imbalance in biblical poetry are not the products of rules or templates. They emerge contextually as perceivable phenomena, though distinct from Gestalt principles of organization. Balance or imbalance is especially important as it plays out in relation to symmetry’s inherent expectation for balance. Interpreters of biblical poetry must learn to listen for balance and imbalance according to the nature of biblical free-rhythm poetry, and not according to the foreign constructs of meter. As we have seen in these three examples of imbalance, the function or effect of imbalance cannot be predicted based on form.99 Perceived imbalance may affect meaning, or emotion, or rhetorical effect, or some other aspect of poetic artistry.
5.7. LARGER PATTERNS OF SYMMETRY
Thus far most of the discussion of symmetry in this chapter has focused on line-pairs, though we have seen that symmetry organizes larger line-groupings in biblical poetry as well (such as line-triples and line-fours). This section further explores symmetry in a variety of figures that are larger than the line-pair. In Judges 5:27 (text 5.23), the second line stops short of full repetition, creating the expectation for resolution, which comes with the third line. The result is a three-line symmetrical figure, with the third line balancing the first. This strategy—creating an expectation for resolution through incomplete symmetry in the first two lines—also occurs (albeit more subtly) in Judg 5:10: TEXT 5.30 rōkǝbê ʾătōnôt ṣǝḥōrôt Riders-of donkeys light-colored,
10a
ר ְֹכ ֵבי֩ ֲאת ֹ֙נֹות ְצח ֹ֜רֹות
yōšǝbê ʿal-middîn sitters-of on~saddle-cloths,100
10b
ל־מ ִ ּ֛דין ִ י ְֹׁש ֵ ֧בי ַע
wǝhōlǝkê ʿal-derek śîḥû and-walkers-of on~road, tell-(of-it)!
10c
ל־ּד ֶרְך ִ ֽׂשיחּו׃ ֖ ֶ וְ ה ְֹל ֵ ֥כי ַע
Line 10b begins as if a symmetrical line-pair may be emerging: rōkǝbê (“riders- of”) and yōšǝbê (“sitters-of”) are vocatives with the same morphology and similarity of meaning.101 Yet the symmetry falls short, most notably through 99. E.g., it is deeply flawed to claim that a 3:2 (or long:short) stress pattern has a “limping” or lamenting quality simply on the basis of imbalance, as is often claimed of Lam 1–4; see section 7.2. 100. The meaning of middîn is uncertain but if from the noun mad, probably refers to an article of cloth (HALOT 1:546). 101. As in 2 Sam 1:21a (text 5.14), the use of the construct form before a preposition contributes to line-structural symmetry. [ 148 ] Gestalt Principles
imbalance (3:2 by words/stresses, 9:6 by syllables). (Compare the sound of 10a–b without the word ṣǝḥōrôt, “light-colored.”) As line 10c begins, we hear another vocative with identical morphology (though conjoined)—yet this time, we hear close correspondence of syntax between line 10c and line 10b, as well as the repetition of the preposition ʿal (“on”). The semantic image, however, has shifted somewhat from the riders/sitters of 10a–b to walking travelers. And oddly (at least to scholars expecting parallelistic correspondences), line 10c ends with a one-word imperative, “ruining” the syntactic symmetry as well as the balance that was starting to emerge between lines 10c and 10b. Yet these three lines emerge as a finely integrated whole: lines 10a and 10b are partially symmetrical and imbalanced, and lines 10b and 10c are partially symmetrical and imbalanced. All three lines are integrated through the threefold repetition of the construct participle vocatives. Lines 10a and 10c are balanced, and though they lack the tighter correspondences of Judg 5:27 (text 5.23), śîḥû (“tell!”) (corresponding in location and also in phonetic features with ṣǝḥōrôt, “light-colored”) provides the symmetrical click of completion of the whole. The final imperative is anticipated by the vocatives and thus brings closure to the grouping (a closure aided by the line-initial conjunction in 10c).102 Three-line symmetrical figures, however, do not require imbalance or such a high degree of incompleteness in the second line. Recall the patterning of Psalm 100:1b–2b (text 2.1): TEXT 5.31 hārîʿû layhwh kol-hāʾāreṣ Shout to-YHWH, all~the-earth.
1b
ל־ה ָא ֶרץ׃ ָ ָה ִריעּו ַליהוָ ה ָּכ
ʿibdû ʾet-yhwh bǝśimḥâ Serve ‹o.m.›~YHWH with-joy.
2a
ִע ְבדּו ֶאת־יְ הוָ ה ְּב ִׂש ְמ ָחה
bōʾû lǝpānāyw birnānâ Enter to-his-face with-resounding.
2b
ּבֹאּו ְל ָפנָ יו ִּב ְרנָ נָ ה׃
These three lines are integrated through the line-initial imperatives and partial symmetry between each pair of lines. Lines 1b and 2a are partially symmetrical because of the line-initial imperatives and yhwh (“YHWH”), lines 2a and 2b are partially symmetrical because of the line-initial imperatives and the correspondence between bǝśimḥâ (“with-joy”) and birnānâ (“with- resounding”), and lines 1b and 2b are partially symmetrical because of the line-initial imperatives and the correspondence between layhwh (“to-YHWH”) and lǝpānāyw (“to-his-face”). The result is a well-integrated line-triple with consistently maintained equilibrium, line by line. 102. Furthermore, the imperative prevents the complete syntactic symmetry of 10b– c, which would lessen the integration of the three lines as a whole. On closure and requiredness, see sections 6.2 and 6.3.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 149 ]
Quite different from the patterned integration of Ps 100:1b–2a is the line- triple of 2 Samuel 1:21a–c (discussed with respect to balance as text 5.24). TEXT 5.32 hārê baggilbōaʿ O-hills in-Gilboa,
21a
ָה ֵ ֣רי ַבּגִ ְל ּ֗בֹ ַע
ʾal-ṭal wǝʾal-māṭār ʿălêkem let-not~dew [(be) upon-you] and-let-not~rain (be) upon-you,
21b
ל־מ ָ ֛טר ֲע ֵל ֶיכ֖ם ָ ל־טל וְ ַא ֧ ַ ַא
ûśǝdê tǝrûmōt 21c and-[let-not]-fields-of offerings [(be) upon-you],
מת ֹ ֑ ּוׂש ֵ ֣די ְתרּו ְ
The lines of 2 Sam 1:21a–c are integrated through syntax of the whole line- grouping, not through line-internal patterning. Unlike Ps 100:1b–2a, this line-triple is simple to schematize, as A/B/Aʹ. The second line, although it brings imbalance, creates no expectation for symmetrical completion (unlike Judg 5:27 and 5:10, texts 5.23 and 5.30). That is, a pattern that begins with AB . . . (where A and B are not line-internally patterned in relation to each other) can be completed in multiple ways. The third line both creates and closes the symmetry (a closure aided in perceptibility by the conjunction). There is no strong click of completion, because the third line comes without expectation for the patterning it will take. As a result, the symmetrical shape of the line-triple is closed only weakly, and it flows into the next (symmetrical) line-pair. We can contrast the feeling of certainty created by the A/B/Aʹ/Bʹ pattern in Deuteronomy 32:21: TEXT 5.33 hēm qinʾûnî bǝlōʾ-ʾēl They have-made-me-jealous with-(what-is)-not~god;
21a
א־אל ֵ֔ ֹ ֵ ֚הם ִקנְ ֣אּונִ י ְבל
kiʿăsûnî bǝhablêhem they-have-enraged-me with-their-idols.
21b
יהם ֑ ֶ ִּכ ֲע ֖סּונִ י ְּב ַה ְב ֵל
waʾănî ʾaqnîʾēm bǝlōʾ-ʿām And-I will-make-them-jealous with-(what-is)-not~a-people;
21c
א־עם ָ ֔ ֹ יאם ְּבל ֣ ֵ ִוַ ֲאנִ ֙י ַא ְקנ
bǝgôy nābāl ʾakʿîsēm with-a-nation foolish I-will-enrage-them.
21d
יסם׃ ֽ ֵ ְּבג֥ ֹוי נָ ָ ֖בל ַא ְכ ִע
Why is it that this figure feels like it cannot end with line 21c, that it cannot be a symmetrical A/B/Aʹ pattern? The reason is the patterned line-internal
[ 150 ] Gestalt Principles
integration of the A and B lines. Lines 21a and 21b are themselves a partially symmetrical line-pair, which we can better schematize as A1 and A2. As line 21c unfolds, it strongly corresponds with line 21a, creating the pattern A1/A2/ A1ʹ. . . . This patterning sets up the strong expectation for completion of the four-line symmetry. The figure finishes as expected: A1/A2/A1ʹ/A2ʹ. (The conjunction joins the two line-pairs.) Notice that the word order of the A2 lines is arranged chiastically: V PP (line 21b) and PP V (line 21d). Recall that chiastic arrangements are inherently closed symmetries. The word order of line 21d brings symmetrical closure to the figure, ruling out the expectation for continuation of the pattern (since an A/B/Aʹ/Bʹ pattern is not inherently closed).103 Symmetrical figures of line-fours occur with various patterned orders and have different degrees of integration between lines. One common arrangement is the A/Aʹ/B/Bʹ order, as in Deuteronomy 32:2:104 TEXT 5.34 yaʿărōp kammāṭār liqḥî Let-drop like-the-rain my-teaching,
2a
יַ ֲע ֤ר ֹף ַּכ ָּמ ָט ֙ר ִל ְק ִ֔חי
tizzal kaṭṭal ʾimrātî let-flow like-the-light-rain my-word,
2b
ִּת ַּז֥ל ַּכ ַ ּ֖טל ִא ְמ ָר ִ ֑תי
103. This observation on the closed shape of the figure due to word order does not necessarily rule out pragmatic nuance of word order in line 21d. I.e., poetic structure (Gestalt shapes of language) and pragmatics (meaning due to word order) are not necessarily mutually exclusive explanations (in contrast to the linguistic approach of Lunn 2006). The marked word order of 21d (clause-initial PP, which may be heard as prominent) potentially highlights or bolsters the contextual semantic unexpectedness of bǝgôy nābāl, “with a foolish nation,” which corresponds syntactically but not semantically with bǝhablêhem, “with their idols,” in line 21b. I.e., “unexpectedness” may be a product of both poetic structure and pragmatics. The unexpectedness of bǝgôy nābāl (“with a foolish nation”) contrasts with the expectedness of akʿîsēm (“I will enrage them”) within the patterning of the four-line symmetry. 104. O’Connor has drawn attention to the syntax of this pattern, which he calls “mixing” (1997: 421–22). But syntax alone cannot account for the AAʹBBʹ pattern in biblical poetry, e.g., Judg 5:11a–d, in which the second line-pair is not syntactically symmetrical, although the components of 11c–d can be arranged chiastically (non- syntactically) in near-symmetry. The AAʹBBʹ pattern is one of many variations of line- grouping symmetry. This pattern raises a syntactic question: Is the third line syntactically dependent on the first line or on both the first and second lines? This technicality matters insofar as it affects the meaning of the whole; i.e., it is a question of semantic relationships. (See, e.g., the discussion in C. L. Miller 2007a: 176–77.) In 2 Sam 1:20 (text 5.28), the question is irrelevant to interpretation, but in 2 Sam 1:22 (text 5.35), there seems to be a correlation between arrows/blood and sword/flesh (cf. Deut 32:42, discussed in n28, this chapter), i.e., a dependence between the third/first and fourth/second lines. In Deut 32:2 the answer to the question affects how we understand the images and nuance the translation. Similarly, in Song 1:5 (text 5.36), albeit with the A and Aʹ components together in the first line, the issue is key to how the verse is interpreted. These questions must be teased out in context, not formulaically.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 151 ]
kiśʿîrīm ʿălê-dešeʾ like-raindrops on~vegetation,
2c
י־ד ֶׁשא ֔ ֶ ירם ֲע ֵל ֣ ִ ִּכ ְׂש ִע
wǝkirbîbîm ʿălê-ʿēśeb and-like-showers on~herbage.
2d
י־ע ֶׂשב׃ ֽ ֵ יבים ֲע ֵל ֖ ִ וְ ִכ ְר ִב
In this pattern, where each line-pair is strongly symmetrical, the more integrated the third line is with the first line-pair, the more strongly expected the fourth line is. That is, since Deut 32:2c syntactically depends upon what precedes it, the whole of the pattern demands the completion of AAʹB . . . as AAʹBBʹ. We already saw this pattern in 2 Samuel 1:20 (text 5.28, with imbalance between the first two lines), and it also occurs in 2 Sam 1:22 (with imbalance between the two line-pairs):105 TEXT 5.35 middam ḥălālîm From-blood-of slain,
22a
ִמ ַ ּ֣דם ֲח ָל ֗ ִלים
mēḥēleb gibbôrîm from-fat-of warriors,
22b
ּבֹורים ֔ ִ ִֵמ ֵ֙ח ֶל ֙ב ּג
qešet yǝhônātān lōʾ nāśôg ʾāḥôr the-bow-of Jonathan did-not turn back,
22c
ֶ ֚ק ֶׁשת יְ ֣הֹונָ ָ֔תן ֥ל ֹא נָ ׂ֖שֹוג ָא ֑חֹור
wǝḥereb šāʾûl lōʾ tāšûb rêqām and-the-sword-of Saul did-not return empty.
22d
וְ ֶ ֣ח ֶרב ָׁש ֔אּול ֥ל ֹא ָת ׁ֖שּוב ֵר ָ ֽ�יקם׃
We can contrast the similar patterning but quite different effect in Song of Songs 1:5: TEXT 5.36 šǝḥôrâ ʾănî wǝnāʾwâ “Black” (am) I and-beautiful [(am) I],106
5a
אוה ֔ ָ ָחֹורה ֲאנִ ֙י ְ ֽונ ֤ ָ ְׁש
bǝnôt yǝrûšālāim daughters-of Jerusalem,
5b
ִרּוׁש ָל֑ם ָ ְְּבנ֖ ֹות י
kǝʾohŏlê qēdār like-the-tents-of Qedar,
5c
ְּכ ָא ֳה ֵל֣י ֵק ָ ֔דר
kîrîʿôt šǝlōmōh like-the-tent-curtains-of Solomon.
5d
מה׃ ֹ ֽ יעֹות ְׁשֹל ֖ ִּכ ִיר
105. In 2 Sam 1:22, the imbalance of the four-line figure is part of a larger symmetry that is resolved in lines 23d–e; see section 5.8. 106. This word by word English translation does not capture the meaning of the line; see the discussion. [ 152 ] Gestalt Principles
In this four-line figure, the first line-pair is not symmetrical: the paired (corresponding) clauses are combined in the first line (with ellipsis), and the second line is a vocative phrase. The patterning of the first three lines (A/B/C), though A and C are syntactically integrated, does not inherently create the expectation for the shape that emerges: A/B/C/Cʹ, which, retrospectively, can be patterned AAʹ/B/C/Cʹ. (The line-pair 5c–d is a syntactically symmetrical subwhole, and the connections between A/C and Aʹ/Cʹ are semantic.) As is common in the Song, this figure resists simple symmetry, along with symmetry’s predictability and equilibrium. Furthermore, the two qualities of line 5a—“ ‘black’ and beautiful”—are set up in semantic contrast (better translated “ ‘black’ but beautiful”), not in similarity. “Black” here refers to a lack of color or vitality, not a presence of skin pigmentation or an ethnic or racial distinction (Berlin forthcoming). In context, the girl has been “blackened” by the sun (v. 6), resulting in a loss of beauty due to bodily neglect.107 Line 5a creates a tension: How can this girl be both “black” (lacking in vitality of appearance) and beautiful? This unfolding poetic figure does not set up a pattern to resolve; it creates a semantic tension to resolve. We can only retrospectively pattern the figure as AAʹ/B/C/Cʹ, according to the following correspondences: the girl is “black” like the tents of the nomadic tribe Qedar (the root q-d-r means “to be dark”), and she is beautiful like the tent-curtains of Solomon (see 2 Chr 3:14). The poetic figure takes these two traits with perceived opposition—“blackness” and beauty (5a)—and brings them together in the similes of 5c–d, organized symmetrically, as two parts (lines) of a subwhole (line-pair). The key (contextual) interpretative question then becomes whether “like the tents of Qedar” is an inherently negative comparison, or whether it can have positive connotations. That is, does the poetic figure (as it unfolds and moves forward) preserve the semantic opposition of “black” and “beautiful,” or does it allow us to diminish this opposition, moving toward a “both/and” resolution?108 I lean toward the 107. On the challenges of translating this nonracial verse in a modern Western context, see Bellis 2021. Berlin, in her forthcoming Hermeneia commentary on Song of Songs, argues that “blackened” complexion in the ancient world refers not to “suntan” (in our modern sense) but instead to an absence of color: a loss of luster or brightness, i.e., vitality (cf. Lam 4:7–8). The girl’s natural beauty (color) has been removed by her hard work in the sun. (Berlin’s view contrasts with the common view of commentators that suntanned skin was an indication of lower social class in ancient Israel; see, e.g., Bellis 2021: 103; M. V. Fox 1985: 101; Garrett 2004: 133.) I am indebted to Adele Berlin for her insights on this passage and for sharing this section of her forthcoming commentary with me. 108. Berlin (in her forthcoming commentary) notes that Qedar is often associated with negative traits in the Bible (“foreignness, primitiveness, and hostility”) and understands the point of the comparison to be the drabness of their tents, which, as the Medieval Jewish exegetes observed, were weathered (like the girl). Thus, Berlin views the colorless tents of Qedar in opposition to the colorful curtains of Solomon, in “antithetic parallelism.” E. F. Davis, in contrast, notes that the tribe of Qedar is “famed for their power and splendor” (Isa 21:16–17) and treats the comparison of “black like the
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 153 ]
latter option: in spite of her “blackened” and sun-weathered appearance, the girl, like the tents of Qedar, does display a vitality of strength (see v. 6), as well as an exquisite beauty (or “craftmanship”) like the curtains of Solomon (a beauty that will be praised as the Song unfolds).109 Through unexpected symmetrical completion, the whole figure potentially moves toward resolution of the opposition of line 5a, reorienting the listener’s/reader’s perspective to how “blackness” and beauty fit together in the emerging portrait of this girl. Four-line symmetries in biblical poetry need not follow just one pattern. As we saw in section 5.5 (text 5.25), Micah 3:9 follows an overall A/Aʹ/B/ Bʹ pattern but has an A/B/B/A pattern of balance. Both Numbers 24:6 and Deuteronomy 32:8 have overlapping A/Aʹ/B/Bʹ and A/B/Aʹ/Bʹ patterns in the same figure. The overlap is possible because both patterns follow temporal order, which is expected. The natural temporal unfolding of figures, however, means that figures like A/[Aʹ/Bʹ]/B, in which one line-pair is nested in another, are more difficult to achieve. This nested pattern (A/[Aʹ/Bʹ]/B) occurs in Judges 5:19, where Bʹ is a continuation of Aʹ and B is a continuation of A (and neither A/Aʹ nor B/Bʹ emerge as line-pairs): TEXT 5.37 bāʾû mǝlākîm nilḥāmû Came kings, they fought—
19a
ָ ּ֤באּו ְמ ָל ִכ ֙ים נִ ְל ָ֔חמּו
ʾāz nilḥămû malkê kǝnaʿan then fought kings-of Canaan
19b
מּו ַמ ְל ֵכ֣י ְכ ַ֔נ ַען ֙ ָ ֤אז נִ ְל ֲח
bǝtaʿnak ʿal-mê mǝgiddô at-Taanach by~the-waters-of Megiddo—
19c
ל־מי ְמגִ ּ֑דֹו ֣ ֵ ְּב ַת ְע ַנ�ְ֖ך ַע
beṣaʿ kesep lōʾ lāqāḥû gain-of silver did-not they-take.
19d
ֶ ּ֥ב ַצע ֶּכ ֶ֖סף ֥ל ֹא ל ָ ֽ�ָקחּו׃
goats’ hair tents” as positive (2000: 244). (The adjective “black,” šāḥôr, can refer to dark color with positive connotations, e.g., the description of black hair in Song 5:11.) Davis, however, misses the contextual opposition between “black” and “beautiful” in 1:5a. I view “Qedar” as having the potential to evoke either positive or negative associations. 109. I.e., I am suggesting that the text requires us to understand “ ‘black’ but beautiful” in line 5a but subsequently allows us to interpret “ ‘black’ and beautiful” in lines 5c–d, based on the organization of the whole figure and how the ideas are developed in v. 6. This reasoning is based on the larger emerging whole, not simply on the syntactic symmetry of lines 5c–d (which may allow for a variety of semantic relationships between lines; see section 5.2). The shape of the figure of 5a–d lends itself well to semantic development; it is not static. This development continues in various ways as the whole of the Song unfolds. The stanza moves into further pastoral imagery (1:7–8), which notably has “the fairest of women” by shepherds’ tents. Eventually the girl is transformed from “blackened” by the sun to one shining like the sun: she “looks down like the dawn” and is “pure/bright as the sun” (Song 6:10), in a poetic figure that culminates with an image of martial strength and beauty. [ 154 ] Gestalt Principles
Line 19b is clearly related to 19a, but it is initially difficult to organize that relationship. The lines are similar (thus we can designate them A and Aʹ), but they cannot be arranged symmetrically by components. The particle ʾāz (“then”) forces a separation between 19b and 19a that requires us to read 19c as the continuation of 19b, with the result that 19b and 19c emerge as a line-pair (19b–c is a clause). But what of the now unintegrated line, 19a: how should the relationship of 19b to 19a be resolved in the emerging figure? As the text continues to unfold, the lines can be organized in a nested A/[Aʹ/ Bʹ]/B pattern, in which B completes A, as Bʹ has completed Aʹ.110 Thus we can translate the implicit semantic connection of 19a and 19d (a connection that is dependent upon the mental structuring of the four-line whole as symmetrical): “Kings came, they fought . . . but gain of silver they did not take.” The repetition of nilḥămû (“fought”) in 19b may reinforce the sound of line-final nilḥāmû of 19a in active memory—the action of the poem essentially stalls here on the kings fighting, in 19b–c. If so, the line-final lāqāḥû (“take”) in 19d 110. Grammatically, we can view the nested clause as parenthesis. Another possible example of symmetry exploiting grammatical parenthesis is Ps 18:42 (ET 18:41). (Holmstedt 2021: 91–92 likewise analyzes this as parenthesis; contra C. L. Miller 2007a: 176.) yǝšawwǝʿû wǝʾên-môšîaʿ They-cried-for-help—but-there-was-not~a-savior— ʿal-yhwh wǝlōʾ ʿānām to~YHWH—but-he-did-not answer-them.
42a
ין־מֹוׁש ַיע ִ֑ יְ ַׁשּוְ ֥עּו וְ ֵא
42b
הוה וְ ֣ל ֹא ָע ָנֽם׃ ֗ ָ ל־י ְ֜ ַע
One important aspect of the patterning of these lines is the cohesion of each line through sound similarities: yǝšawwǝʿû wǝʾên-môšîaʿ (historically, *mawšîʿ) and (to a lesser degree) ʿal-yhwh wǝlōʾ ʿānām. The similarity of sounds, however, corresponds not with semantic similarity but semantic contrast or unexpectedness (thus the translation “but” for the connecting conjunction w-). To make sense of the figure, we have to hear the two-part lines symmetrically, in an AB/AʹBʹ pattern, where B contrasts with A, and Aʹ is a continuation of A (such that Aʹ continues and completes the clause begun by A). Although Bʹ is semantically similar to B, it is not a continuation of B, but a continuation of Aʹ. (I.e., the line-pair is structured symmetrically, but not every grammatical relationship is symmetrical within the whole—which would not be grammatically possible.) This symmetrical line-pair does not seem to be an example of grammatical ellipsis (with the verb elided from the second line). There is no clear indication that line 42b begins a coordinate structure, and there is no clear evidence of the requirement of “context identity” being met (see Miller-Naudé 2013: 809). This verse is discussed in Tsumura 2017: 194, and Tsumura describes this phenomenon as “vertical grammar.” In contrast, in discussing patterns, I do not want to confuse the organization of poetic structure with the grammar of biblical Hebrew. Biblical Hebrew poetry does not have a grammar that is distinct from prose; rather, it exploits the grammatical structures of normal Hebrew language for poetic structure. This does not mean, however, that poetic structure has no impact on grammar. As with English poetry, ellipsis in biblical Hebrew poetry can differ from ellipsis in prose (C. L. Miller 2008a: 159). E.g., some of the syntactic constraints on ellipsis are relaxed in biblical Hebrew poetry, owing to the possibilities that symmetry (as a poetic structural organizing principle) creates for syntactically coordinate lines (see n72, this chapter).
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 155 ]
(note the marked O V word order) may be paired with nilḥāmû (“fought”) in 19a (morphologically and phonologically)—thus bringing closure to the four- line whole. There is one four-line symmetrical pattern that we have not yet considered, the chiastic ABBʹAʹ pattern. A subtle example of this pattern occurs in Deuteronomy 32:43:111 TEXT 5.38 harnînû gôyīm ʿammô Cause-to-rejoice, O-nations, his-people,
43a
גֹויִם ַע ּ֔מֹו ֙ ַה ְר ִנ֤ינּו
kî dam-ʿăbādāyw yiqqôm for the-blood-of~his-servants he-will-avenge,
43b
ם־ע ָב ָ ֖דיו יִ ּ֑קֹום ֲ ִ ּ֥כי ַד
wǝnāqām yāšîb lǝṣārāyw and-vengeance he-will-render to-his-adversaries,
43c
וְ נָ ָק ֙ם יָ ִ ׁ֣שיב ְל ָצ ָ ֔ריו
wǝkipper ʾadmātô ʿammô and-he-will-atone (for)-his-land, (for)-his-people.
43d
וְ ִכ ֶ ּ֥פר ַא ְד ָמ ֖תֹו ַע ּֽמֹו׃
In this verse, the middle lines (43b, 43c) correspond through the root n-q-m (yiqqôm “will-avenge”/nāqām “vengeance”), and the outer lines (43a, 43d) correspond through ʿammô (“his people”) at the end of each line. An example of a stronger A/B/Bʹ/Aʹ symmetry in which the lines are integrated through line-internal patterning occurs in Deuteronomy 33:2a–d: TEXT 5.39 yhwh missînay bāʾ YHWH from-Sinai came,
2a
הוה ִמ ִּס ַינ֥י ָּב ֙א ֞ ָ ְי
wǝzāraḥ miśśēʿîr lāmô and-he-dawned from-Seir for-them;
2b
יר ֔ ָלמֹו ֙ וְ זָ ַ ֤רח ִמ ֵּׂש ִע
hôpîaʿ mēhar pāʾrān he-shone-forth from-Mount Paran,
2c
ארן ֔ ָ יע ֵמ ַ ֣הר ָּפ ַ֙ הֹופ ִ֙
111. The four lines of MT’s v. 43 are represented by six lines in 4QDeutq. As in MT v. 8, it appears that the textual tradition represented by MT has undergone theological revision and 4QDeutq represents the older text. For an extensive discussion of the different textual traditions, see Nelson 2002: 379–80. What is noteworthy for our purposes here is that MT’s revision leaves an integrated and symmetrical line-grouping (i.e., lines of “good form” in biblical poetry). The second line of 4QDeutq, with its reference to the pagan gods, is missing. The fifth line of 4QDeutq is also missing, which Nelson says “is difficult to explain” (380). With respect to poetic structure, however, the absence of the fifth line along with the second line is easily explainable: the remaining lines are all integrated as a four-line symmetrical line-grouping. The absence of just the second line would result in an unintegrated and incomplete figure. The revision preserved by the MT fits the versification system of biblical poetry. [ 156 ] Gestalt Principles
wǝʾātâ mēribbōt qōdeš and-he-came112 from-myriads-of holiness.113
2d
וְ ָא ָ ֖תה ֵמ ִר ְב ֣בֹת ֑קֹ ֶדׁש
This is a difficult text (especially as it continues in vv. 3–4), and unfortunately, parallelism has only wreaked further havoc with its expectation that the first three (or four) lines are somehow synonymous. We have analyzed examples of three-line symmetries above, and it should be apparent that lines 2a–c are not an integrated or symmetrical line-triple. Lines 2a and 2b are partially symmetrical syntactically, but the symmetrical patterning between lines 2b and 2c is significantly stronger. Lines 2b–2c are symmetrical through syntax, through the lexical correspondence of zāraḥ (“he-dawned”) and hôpîaʿ (“he-shone-forth), and through the correspondence of Seir and Mount Paran (which are located in the same region, whereas Sinai/Horeb is not).114 Lines 2b and 2c might emerge as a stable line-pair, except that line 2a is then left oddly unintegrated, and moreover, the conjunctions join lines 2a and 2b, and lines 2c and 2d (not 2b and 2c). The whole of the line-grouping is not a line-triple, but a line-four. Line 2b is similar to line 2a (the correspondence of “from Seir” with “from Sinai”), and the lines are conjoined. As line 2c unfolds, it begins a new line-pair (confirmed by the following conjunction), but it also creates a strong two-line symmetry with line 2b. A chiastic pattern has begun to emerge: A/&B/Bʹ/. . . . The expectation for a final &Aʹ line is now clear, and line 2d meets this expectation. Line 2d is arranged chiastically in relation to line 2a (S PP V /V PP). The verbs are synonymous (bāʾ and ʾātâ, “came”), and missînay (“from-Sinai”) corresponds with mēribbōt qōdeš (“from-myriads-of holiness”). That is, YHWH’s coming from Sinai (to give his people the law, vv. 3–4) is linked with YHWH coming forth from myriads of heavenly beings.115 As we saw in the nine-line figure of Mic 3:11–12 (text 5.10), symmetries can become increasingly elaborate in larger figures. An example of an eight- line symmetry—chiastic, as in Deut 33:2a–d—is found in Judges 5:4–5.
112. Some scholars repoint wǝʾātâ as a suffixed preposition (“and with him”) based on the ancient versions (see Nelson 2002: 383). 113. Another possibility is to understand mēribbōt qōdeš as a known or unknown place name (with or without emending the text; see Nelson 2002: 383). 114. There is a conceptual link between Seir and Sinai in Deuteronomy, but they are not the same. The introductory material of Deuteronomy frames Israel’s wilderness journeys as centered upon (or, revolving around, in 2:1–3) two mountains: first, Horeb =Sinai (1:6), for the giving of the law (5:2), and second, after the refusal to enter the land, Seir (2:1–3), for the forty years of wandering before entering the land. 115. The remainder of v. 2 (line 2e) belongs with the beginning of v. 3 (3a) as a line- pair. For the presence of divine beings in this context, cf. the versions, especially the OG translation of line 2e.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 157 ]
TEXT 5.40 yhwh bǝṣēʾtǝkā miśśēʿîr YHWH, when-you-went-out from-Seir,
4a
יר ֙ אתָך֤ ִמ ֵּׂש ִע ְ הוה ְּב ֵצ ֗ ָ ְי
bǝṣaʿdǝkā miśśǝdê ʾĕdôm when-you-marched from-the-field-of Edom,
4b
ְּב ַצ ְע ְּד ָ֙ך ִמ ְּׂש ֵ ֣דה ֱא ֔דֹום
ʾereṣ rāʿāšâ earth shook,
4c
ֶ ֣א ֶרץ ָר ֔ ָע ָׁשה
gam-šāmayim nāṭāpû even~heavens dripped,116
4d
ם־ׁש ַ ֖מיִם נָ ָ ֑טפּו ָ ַּג
gam-ʿābîm nāṭǝpû māyim even~clouds dripped water,
4e
ם־ע ִ ֖בים ָנ ְ֥טפּו ָ ֽמיִם׃ ָ ַּג
hārîm nāzǝlû mountains quaked,117
5a
ָה ִ ֥רים נָ זְ ל֖ ּו
mippǝnê yhwh zê sînay before YHWH, the-one-of118 Sinai,
5b
הו֑ה ֶז֣ה ִס ַ֔יני ָ ְִמ ְּפ ֵנ֣י י
mippǝnê yhwh ʾĕlōhê yiśrāʾēl before YHWH, the-God-of Israel.
5c
ֹלהי יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֽאל׃ ֥ ֵ הו֖ה ֱא ָ ְִמ ְּפ ֵ֕ני י
This eight- line stanza begins with a symmetrical line- pair of dependent clauses. Often (as in 2 Sam 1:22, text 5.35), this pattern is completed with another symmetrical line-pair of independent clauses (in an A/Aʹ/B/Bʹ pattern). But here, the poem finds a more complex way to bring closure to the symmetrical pattern that has begun. In 5:4a–b, the symmetrical line-pair of dependent clauses begins the expectation for symmetrical organization. Line 4c provides an expected independent clause, and line 4d does as well. These two
116. The verb n-ṭ-p in the qal is usually transitive, “drip (a fluid)” (Joel 4:18; Prov 5:3; Song 4:11; 5:5, 13), but it is intransitive in Job 29:22, in the sense of “speech dripping (on someone)” (cf. the hiphil use in Amos 7:16 and elsewhere, referring to speech). In Judg 5:4d, nāṭāpû may be intransitive (cf. Ps 68:9, a reuse of lines from this stanza), or the object “water” may be backward elided (cf. Hauser 1980: 29–30). I thank John Cook for his discussion of transitivity and this verb. 117. The form nāzǝlû may be parsed as (1) niphal pf., z-l-l “quake,” or (2) qal pf., n-z-l “flow.” I have translated according to (1) because of how the symmetrical structure of the stanza unfolds. This does not, however, rule out a play on words as part of the artistry of the poem. GKC accounts for the particular form in Judg 5:5 (compare nāzōllû in Isa 63:19/64:2) as a “neglect of the strengthening in aramaïzing forms” (p. 183, §67dd). 118. IBHS calls this the “quasi-relative” or “determinative” use of the z series forms, which is a substantive use of the demonstrative (337, 19.5c–d). For various possible analyses of this construction, see Holmstedt 2014. Holmstedt’s decisive argument against the possible zê sînay construction in 5b is his proposed bipartite “parallel” division of v. 5, which misunderstands the poetic structure of this passage (12–14). [ 158 ] Gestalt Principles
clauses may initially be organized as symmetrical.119 As the text unfolds, however, line 4e corresponds more closely with 4d than 4d corresponds with 4c, in both the symmetrical organization of the pieces (through word repetition and lexical pairs) and the semantic symmetry of the clauses. Lines 4d–e emerge as a symmetrical subunit of the expanding figure.120 The anticipated A/Aʹ/B/ Bʹ pattern is emerging, instead, as a different pattern: A/Aʹ/B/C/Cʹ/. . . . Since this pattern began as symmetrical, the active listener is still expecting symmetrical organization of the whole. Thus, line 5a can be organized in relation to 4c, as another B line: the lines have strong correspondences (syntactically and semantically). At this point, the pattern’s completion has become predictable: A/Aʹ/B/C/Cʹ/Bʹ . . . . Closure of the pattern requires two more A lines: A1/ A1ʹ/B/C/Cʹ/Bʹ/A2/A2ʹ. The stanza ends with two more strongly symmetrical dependent phrases (5b–c) that correspond with the initial syntactically dependent line-pair (4a–b). As in 4a, YHWH is named in 5b–c. Lines 4a and 4b end with “Seir” (mountain/territory) and “Edom” (tribe), and 5b and 5c end with “Sinai” (mountain) and “Israel” (tribe). The eight-line whole is also balanced, with the longest lines at the beginning and end, the shortest lines in the “B” positions, and the mid-range lines at the center. The eight-line symmetry of Judges 5:4–5 creates a very strong, stable shape. The poet follows it in v. 6 with a sharply contrasting unstable figure, patterned AAʹBBʹC. The five-line figure is not symmetrical, but the principle of symmetry makes its organization possible. TEXT 5.41 bîmê šamgar ben-ʿănāt In-the-days-of Shamgar son-of~Anat,
6a
ן־ענָ ֙ת ֲ ימי ַׁש ְמ ַּג֤ר ֶּב ֵ֞ ִּב
bîmê yāʿēl in-the-days-of Jael,
6b
ימי יָ ֔ ֵעל ֣ ֵ ִּב
ḥādǝlû ʾŏrāḥôt ceased-did ways,
6c
ָח ְד ֖לּו ֳא ָר ֑חֹות
wǝhōlǝkê nǝtîbôt and-travelers-of paths
6d
וְ ה ְֹל ֵכ֣י נְ ִת ֔יבֹות
yēlǝkû ʾŏrāḥôt ʿăqalqallôt traveled ways twisting.121
6e
יֵ ְל ֕כּו ֳא ָר ֖חֹות ֲע ַק ְל ַק ּֽלֹות׃
119. If the verb nāṭāpû (“drip”) in line 4d is heard as requiring an object (see n116), then the potential symmetry of 4c–d is weakened by the incompleteness of the grammatical construction. 120. Although 4e has one more word/stress than 4d, it is a one-syllable word—which fits with my hypothesis that one-syllable variations may be leveled for perceptual balance (section 5.5). 121. I.e., “traveled (on) twisting ways.”
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 159 ]
Judges 5:6 opens with a strongly symmetrical line-pair of dependent prepositional phrases—except that the second line unexpectedly stops short of an appellation for Jael (cf. 5:24). The line-pair is not balanced, which weakens the symmetry. As we have seen, symmetrical dependent phrases create an expectation for further symmetry—which is often resolved through a subsequent symmetrical line-pair of independent clauses. As syntactically anticipated, an independent clause follows in 6c. The next segment of text (6d) is balanced with 6c, and can be organized as partially symmetrical with 6c, such that ʾŏrāḥôt (“ways”) and nətîbôt (“paths”) correspond (morphologically and lexically). This may feel like stability at last—except that 6d is syntactically incomplete. Lines 6c–d may be somewhat symmetrically organized, but the lack of syntactic closure prevents 6c–d from emerging as a symmetrical whole. As line 6e unfolds, it can be organized symmetrically in relation to 6d, with yēləkû (“traveled”) corresponding with hōləkê (“travelers-of,” from the same verbal root) and ʾŏrāḥôt (“ways”) lexically corresponding with nətîbôt (“paths”)—except that the addition of ʿăqalqallôt (“twisting”) offsets the balance of the two lines. This is not the four-line symmetry that the listener might have initially expected; the anticipated second line-pair has turned out to be a line-triple. In these five lines, symmetrical organization and balance are constantly at odds with each other in the unfolding contiguous lines. Even though the five lines as a whole lack symmetry, the whole is balanced. This thwarted symmetry, due to a divergence of symmetrical organization and balance, contributes to the poetic effect of instability and unpredictability—further reinforced by the text’s description of unsafe travel and winding paths. This feeling of instability is felt all the more keenly as it contrasts with the certainty of YHWH’s grandiose movement in the eight- line symmetry immediately preceding (4a–5c).122 Although symmetry may seem simple and commonplace, its potential for producing poetic structure and poetic effects in biblical poetry is remarkable and complex. This section has demonstrated a diversity of figures and effects related to symmetry in groupings larger than the line-pair. At an even higher level, whole works can be organized by symmetry. This is the case with David’s lament over Saul and Jonathan.
122. For another example of a thwarted expectation of a four-line A/Aʹ/B/Bʹ symmetry, see Ps 123:2. Here, the pattern emerges instead as A/Aʹ/B/C, where the C-line is quite unexpected, both in non-symmetrical word choice and in length (the line-pair B/C is quite imbalanced). Notice that the psalmist’s situation is very unstable (123:3– 4). The unexpected and short C-line poignantly stands out: the psalmist will not stop looking to YHWH until he shows mercy. [ 160 ] Gestalt Principles
5.8. A SYMMETRICAL POEM: QEŠET, “BOW” (2 SAMUEL 1:19–2 7)
David’s lament over Saul and Jonathan, called Qešet, “Bow,” in 2 Samuel 1:18, is arranged as a chiastic whole.123 This symmetrical structure emerges along with the lines, line-groupings, and larger units or stanzas. Just like the other segments of text we have analyzed thus far, this symmetry has the potential to unfold temporally as the active listener/reader mentally organizes the shapes of the text. That is, the structure of the text is aurally discernible in real-time processing of the verbal artistry; we do not need complex formal or structural analyses to uncover it or account for it. Furthermore, the perceptibility of the structure is not due to the fulfillment of an expectation for a template external to the text, nor should we assume that the structure was cued only through singing or music. The symmetry can be mentally organized from the local shapes and patterns of the text, as it unfolds—shapes and patterns that can be further enhanced through performance of the text, whether vocal or mental. To process the symmetry of the whole lament, the listener/reader must hear the shapes of the individual lines and line-groupings and how these units come together to form the shapes of the larger units or stanzas. The shapes of some of the lines and line-groupings have already been discussed, and some will be discussed in later chapters. Those discussions are footnoted here, and I focus instead on how larger units or stanzas and the symmetrical structure of the whole poem can be heard. The symmetry of the lament is organized according to an ABCBʹAʹ pattern. The A components are 2-line units. The B components are made up of a 4- line unit followed by a 5-line unit. The C component is also a 4-line unit followed by a 5-line unit, but it is more integrated than the B components, and it emerges as a symmetrical 9-line whole. The centerpiece of the chiasm is line 23a, šāʾûl wîhônātān, “Saul and Jonathan.” Here is the poem in its entirety: TEXT 5.42 Qešet Bow
ֶק ֶׁשת
(18)
A haṣṣǝbî yiśrāʾēl ʿal-bāmôtêkā ḥālāl 19a The-splendor, O-Israel, upon~your-heights (is)-slain!124
מֹותיָך ָח ָל֑ל ֖ ֶ ל־ּב ָ ַה ְּצ ִ ֙בי יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ֔אל ַע
123. Saul, the king, is David’s enemy, while Saul’s son Jonathan is David’s dear and loyal friend. In the lament, the bow is the weapon of war (line 27b) that represents Jonathan (line 22c), who is prominent in certain ways in the lament (see discussion). But the symmetry of a bow (the title of the poem) and the symmetry of the poem (which interweaves laments for both men) may not be merely coincidental. 124. The lineation of 19a is discussed in section 6.3, text 6.23. Greenstein 2020 argues that the phrase haṣṣǝbî yiśrāʾēl is an apostrophe, based on the particle ha- prefixed to
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 161 ]
ʾêk nāpǝlû gibbôrîm How have-fallen warriors!
19b
ּבֹורים׃ ֽ ִ ִֵ ֖איְך נָ ְפ ֥לּו ג
20a
ל־ּת ִּג֣ידּו ְב ֔ ַגת ַ ַא
ʾal-tǝbaśśǝrû bǝḥûṣōt ʾašqǝlôn 20b do-not~herald in-the-streets-of Ashkelon,
ל־ּת ַב ְּׂש ֖רּו ְּבחּו ֣צֹת ַא ְׁש ְק ֑לֹון ְ ַ ֽא
pen-tiśmaḥnâ bǝnôt pǝlištîm lest~rejoice daughters-of the-Philistines,
20c
ן־ּת ְׂש ַ֙מ ְחנָ ֙ה ְּבנ֣ ֹות ְּפ ִל ְׁש ִּ֔תים ִ ֶּפ
pen-taʿălōzǝnâ bǝnôt hāʿărēlîm lest~exult daughters-of the-uncircumcised.125
20d
ן־ּת ֲע ֹ֖לזְ נָ ה ְּבנ֥ ֹות ָה ֲע ֵר ִ ֽלים׃ ַ ֶ ּֽפ
21a
ָה ֵ ֣רי ַבּגִ ְל ּ֗בֹ ַע
ʾal-ṭal wǝʾal-māṭār ʿălêkem let-not~dew [ ] and let-not~rain (be) upon-you,
21b
ל־מ ָ ֛טר ֲע ֵל ֶיכ֖ם ָ ל־טל וְ ַא ֧ ַ ַא
ûśǝdê tǝrûmōt and-[ ]-fields-of offerings [ ],
21c
מת ֹ ֑ ּוׂש ֵ ֣די ְתרּו ְ
kî šām nigʿal māgēn gibbôrîm for there was-defiled shield-of warriors,
21d
ּבֹורים ֔ ִ ִִ ּ֣כי ָ ׁ֤שם נִ גְ ַעל֙ ָמ ֵג�֣ן ּג
māgēn šāʾûl bǝlî māšûaḥ baššāmen the-shield-of Saul, not anointed with-the-oil.126
21e
ַּב ָ ּֽׁש ֶמן׃127מׁשוח ֥ ָמ ֵג�֣ן ָׁש ֔אּול ְּב ִ ֖לי
B1 ʾal-taggîdû bǝgat Do-not~declare in-Gath,
B2 hārê baggilbōaʿ O-hills in-Gilboa,
ṣǝbî. The definite article, however, does not mark the vocative in Biblical Hebrew (C. L. Miller 2010a). Rather, haṣṣǝbî is a definite noun, and yiśrāʾēl alone is the vocative (and is the antecedent of “your”). (On vocative syntax, see Miller 2010b.) This reading accords with the Masoretic disjunctive accent assigned to haṣṣǝbî. As other scholars have noted, haṣṣǝbî (meaning either “the splendor” or “the gazelle”—my translation reflects the former) in 19a elusively refers to the fallen warriors, Saul and Jonathan. The development in line 25b, however, with the repetition of ʿal-bāmôtêkā ḥālāl, subtly identifies haṣṣǝbî as Jonathan (cf. Freedman 1972). 125. The lineation of 20a–d is discussed in section 5.6, text 5.28. 126. The lineation and elliptical syntax of 21a–c is discussed in section 5.4, text 5.14, and the chiasm of lines 21d–e is discussed in section 7.3, text 7.31. 127. I am reading ׁשּוח ַ ( ָמBHS: many manuscripts and the Qere of two manuscripts), passive participle modifying “shield,” rather than L’s מ ִׁש ַיח, ָ modifying “Saul.” Thus too McCarter 1984: 71; and Anderson 1989: 12. [ 162 ] Gestalt Principles
C middam ḥălālîm From-blood-of slain,
22a
ִמ ַ ּ֣דם ֲח ָל ֗ ִלים
mēḥēleb gibbôrîm from-fat-of warriors,
22b
ּבֹורים ֔ ִ ִֵמ ֵ֙ח ֶל ֙ב ּג
qešet yǝhônātān lōʾ nāśôg ʾāḥôr the-bow-of Jonathan did-not turn back,
22c
ֶ ֚ק ֶׁשת יְ ֣הֹונָ ָ֔תן ֥ל ֹא נָ ׂ֖שֹוג ָא ֑חֹור
wǝḥereb šāʾûl lōʾ tāšûb rêqām and-the-sword-of Saul did-not return empty.128
22d
וְ ֶ ֣ח ֶרב ָׁש ֔אּול ֥ל ֹא ָת ׁ֖שּוב ֵר ָ ֽ�יקם׃
šāʾûl wîhônātān Saul and-Jonathan,
23a
ָׁש ֣אּול וִ יהֹונָ ָ֗תן
hanneʾĕhābîm wǝhannǝʿîmīm bǝḥayyêhem beloved and-pleasant in-their-lives,129
23b
יהם ֶ֔ ֵימ ֙ם ְּב ַחּי ִ ַהּנֶ ֱא ָה ִ ֤בים וְ ַהּנְ ִע
ûbǝmôtām lōʾ niprādû and-in-their-death not were-they-parted.
23c
מֹותם ֣ל ֹא נִ ְפ ָ ֑רדּו ֖ ָ ּוב ְ
minnǝšārîm qallû Than-eagles they-were-swifter,
23d
ִמּנְ ָׁש ִ ֣רים ַ ֔קּלּו
mēʾărāyôt gābērû than-lions they-were-mightier.
23e
ֵמ ֲא ָרי֖ ֹות ּגָ ֵ ֽברּו׃
24a
נֹות יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ֔אל ֙ ְּב
24b
ל־ׁש ֖אּול ְּב ֶכ֑ינָ ה ָ ֶא
hammalbiškem šānî ʿim-ʿădānîm 24c who-clothed-you (in)-scarlet with~luxuries,
ם־ע ָד ִ֔נים ֲ ַה ַּמ ְל ִ ּֽב ְׁש ֶכ֤ם ָׁשנִ ֙י ִע
B1ʹ bǝnôt yiśrāʾēl Daughters-of Israel, ʾel-šāʾûl bǝkênâ for~Saul weep,130
128. The lineation of 22a–d is discussed in section 5.7, text 5.35. 129. Some scholars have translated hanneʾĕhābîm wǝhannǝʿîmim as the predicate of a verbless clause; e.g., O’Connor translates, “Saul and Jonathan were loved and lovely” (1997: 232). A more accurate translation would be, “Saul and Jonathan were the loved and lovely ones”—though it is not clear from context what this would mean. The better syntactic analysis, owing to the definite articles on hanneʾĕhābîm wǝhannǝʿîmim, is to take šāʾûl wîhônātān as the subject, the phrase hanneʾĕhābîm wǝhannǝʿîmim bǝḥayyêhem as modifying the subject, and what follows as the continuation and completion of the clause (cf. Anderson 1989: 13). I am treating the conjunction waw at the beginning of line 23c as a “semantically empty all-purpose connector” (Steiner 2000: 265). The whole line-triple is integrated; lines 23b–c are only partially symmetrical. 130. Lines 24a–b (followed by a symmetrical line-pair) emerge as two lines, a two- part whole, not as one unintegrated line. See ch. 7, n17, on how word order strengthens the shape of 24b.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 163 ]
hammaʿălê ʿădî zāhāb ʿal lǝbûšǝken 24d who-put ornaments-of gold on your-clothing.
בּוׁש ֶ ֽכן׃ ְ ַ ֽה ַּמ ֲע ֶל ֙ה ֲע ִ ֣די זָ ָ֔הב ַ ֖על ְל
B2ʹ ʾêk nāpǝlû gibbōrîm bǝtôk hammilḥāmâ How have-fallen warriors in-midst-of the-battle!131
25a ֵ ֚איְך נָ ְפ ֣לּו גִ ּב ִ ֹ֔רים ְּב ֖תֹוְך ַה ִּמ ְל ָח ָ ֑מה
yǝhônātān ʿal-bāmôtêkā ḥālāl Jonathan upon~your-heights (is) slain!
25b
מֹותיָך ָח ָ ֽלל׃ ֖ ֶ ל־ּב ָ יְ ֣הֹונָ ָ֔תן ַע
ṣar-lî ʿālêkā ʾāḥî yǝhônātān 26a 132 It-is-distress~to-me concerning-you, my- brother Jonathan.
חי יְ ֣הֹונָ ָ֔תן ֙ ִ ר־לי ָע ֗ ֶליָך ָא ֣ ִ ַצ
nāʿamtā lî mǝʾōd You-were-pleasant to-me exceedingly.
26b
אד ֹ ֑ נָ ַ ֥ע ְמ ָּת ִ ּ֖לי ְמ
niplǝʾatâ ʾahăbātǝkā lî mēʾahăbat nāšîm Wonderful-was your-love to-me, more- than-love-of women.133
26c
נִ ְפ ְל ַ ֤א ָתה ַא ֲה ָ ֽב ְת ָ֙ך ֔ ִלי ֵמ ַא ֲה ַ ֖בת נָ ִ ֽׁשים׃
27a
ּבֹורים ֔ ִ ִֵ ֚איְך נָ ְפ ֣לּו ג
27b
אב ֖דּו ְּכ ֵ ֥לי ִמ ְל ָח ָ ֽמה׃ פ ְ ֹ וַ ּי
Aʹ ʾêk nāpǝlû gibbôrîm How have-fallen warriors! wayyōʾbǝdû kǝlê milḥāmâ And-have-perished weapons-of battle!
The lament begins with a line-pair (19a–b) explicitly addressed to Israel through a vocative in the first line. The line-pair is the opening announcement of the lament; I have designated this unit as A. As line 20a begins, the addressee shifts abruptly (cued by the second-person plural verb), beginning a new shape. We soon learn that the new unnamed plural addressee is the enemy messengers carrying news of the battle, in which the Philistines have just killed Saul and Jonathan. The reason given for the prohibition of declaration in lines 20a–b is the prevention of the rejoicing of the enemy women (“the daughters of the Philistines”) at the news of their warriors’ victory. Lines 20a–d cohere as a semantic and symmetrical unit. Line 21a shifts the addressee again, this time with an explicit vocative, to the hills in Gilboa, which are prohibited from receiving rain and thus producing agricultural offerings. The reason given is that 131. Line 25a emerges as one line, not two. It can be heard as a line in relation to 19b; line 25b confirms that lines 25a–b should be structured as a line-pair, like the opening of the poem. 132. I.e., “I am distressed . . . .” 133. The lineation of 26a–c is discussed in section 6.4, text 6.28. [ 164 ] Gestalt Principles
Saul’s shield was defiled there. The 5-line-unit of 21a–e is integrated through semantics and syntax. Furthermore, the 4-line-unit of v. 20 and the 5-line- unit of v. 21 belong together as two units following the same pattern: not-X, because Y. Both of these volitive expressions are irreal: the news will indeed reach the Philistine cities, and the rains will again fall upon Gilboa. The point is that the inevitable outcomes—the rejoicing of the Philistine women, and future sacred offerings coming from the fields where Saul’s shield, representing Saul the anointed of YHWH, was defiled—are egregiously wrong. I have designated these two related but distinct units as B1 and B2. The lament shifts to a new section in line 22a. No one is addressed in vv. 22–23; the grammatical person is third throughout the nine lines. Lines 22a– d form a symmetrical (A/A/B/B) grouping from two precisely matched symmetrical line-pairs, yet the sharp difference in the weight of lines 22a/22b (2 words/stresses, 5 syllables) and lines 22c/22d (5 words/stresses, 9–10 syllables) is pronounced and noteworthy.134 Verse 22, owing to the four-line symmetry, is a complete figure, but line 23a provides immediate continuity with 22c–d through the repetition of the names of Saul and Jonathan. The five lines of v. 23 are semantically continuous with the four lines of v. 22. Furthermore, unlike the relationship of v. 21 to v. 20, the nine lines are integrated as a unit, which I designate C, through symmetrical patterning of the whole of vv. 22–23. This can first be heard in the pattern initiated by the sharp difference in line weight that is begun in lines 22a–d: light –light –heavy –heavy. Line 23a returns to two words/stresses, like lines 22a–b, and is noticeably light. Line 23b, in contrast, is heavier (with three words/stresses). Because of the similarity of “in-their-lives” and “in-their-death,” the remainder of line 23c is likely to be heard as weighted like the beginning of 23b (by leveling the difference of syllables between prosodic words), thus, as relatively heavy (with 23c also having three words/stresses). But the lines of the symmetrical line-pair 23d–e are markedly short or light—again with two words/stresses, like 22a–b and 23a. Furthermore, lines 23d–e follow the morphological pattern of 22a–b: two words per line, with the first word (a noun) prefixed with the preposition min- (“from/than”). This is the symmetrical patterning that emerges from vv. 22–23: 2a: light; initial min-+noun 2 22b: light; initial min-+noun 22c: heavy 134. This has led some scholars to combine 22a and 22b into a single line to produce more regular line lengths. The difference in the weight of these lines is significant for poetic structure, but not according to this way of reasoning (which is conditioned by metrical poetries). Difference in weights of contiguous lines is frequent in this poem: in lines 20a–d the difference between 20a and 20b weakens the four-line symmetry (text 5.28); in lines 21a–c the difference strengthens the three-line symmetry (text 5.24). Here it contributes to the larger (nine-line) symmetry.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 165 ]
22d: heavy 23a: light 23b: heavy 23c: heavy 23d: light; initial min-+noun 23e: light; initial min-+noun Thus, the patterning of the weight of the lines contributes to the symmetrical integration of the nine-line whole, and the morphological similarity of the final line-pair (23d–e) to the initial line-pair (22a–b) further confirms the symmetrical patterning. Line 24a is another vocative: the poem shifts again to second person, addressing the “daughters of Israel.” These “daughters of Israel” are commanded to weep for Saul, who in the past bestowed upon them the benefits of victory. This 4-line-unit (which coheres syntactically) contrasts with the similar scene of the “daughters of the Philistines” rejoicing in B1, and I have designated it B1ʹ. Hearing this correspondence is key to hearing the overall structure of the lament emerge symmetrically. If the listener/reader has heard the poem thus far as A (2 lines), B1 (4 lines) and B2 (5 lines), C (4 +5 symmetrical lines), B1ʹ (4 lines) . . . , then the expectation, based on the emerging symmetry, is for another five-line grouping that both continues B1ʹ and corresponds with B2. That is, when line 25a begins ʾêk nāpǝlû gibbōrîm . . . (“how have-fallen warriors . . .”)—a repetition from the opening A unit—it is processed as a development of 19b, not as a “trick conclusion” or false sense of closure.135 With line 25b, the (unnamed) addressee shifts again, cued by the second-person singular—presumably Israel, as in line 19a. Lines 25a–b together provide the expected links between this emerging unit (B2ʹ) and B2: the fallen warriors (21d, 25a) on the mountains/heights (21a, 25b). Furthermore, “heights” (bāmôt, of 25b) often refers to not just elevated places, but cultic high places for offerings, another link to the imagery of 21a–e. The unit of B2 has lamented Saul as fallen among the warriors; this unit of B2ʹ laments Jonathan likewise as fallen among the warriors—but goes a step further, correlating Jonathan with the slain “splendor” of 19a (through the development of 19a–b in 25a–b). The final three lines of the unit (26a–c) shift again to a new addressee: the fallen Jonathan himself. These lines poignantly express David’s personal loss of his dear friend. On the one hand, B2ʹ corresponds with 135. Contra O’Connor 1997: 470. In addition to the weaknesses of his formal analysis of the poem’s structure (which avoids thematic elements and is not oriented toward listener perception), O’Connor’s proposal does not convincingly relate structures to poetic effects. He suggests that the “trick ending” results in structural prominence for the Jonathan section, but he does not explain how a “trick ending” can produce poetic effects congruent with the emotional qualities one would expect of the most deeply personal and emotionally moving lines of the poem. [ 166 ] Gestalt Principles
B2: Saul and Jonathan have both fallen among the warriors on the heights. On the other hand, the lines of 26a–c provide a subtle continuation of B2ʹ with B1ʹ (as B2 not-so-subtly continued B1): the “daughters” mourn Saul, and a “brother” mourns Jonathan. Within this continuation, the lament intensifies in lines 26a–c as an emotional crescendo. If the listener/reader has been organizing the poem according to the chiastic patterning (A B C Bʹ . . . ), a closing line-pair is expected. The click of completion comes with lines 27a–b. Line 27a is an exact repetition of line 19b and is followed by a similar line (semantically and syntactically), such that the partially symmetrical line-pair of 27a–b can be heard as Aʹ. The meaning of the opening line of the lament has already been elucidated by lines 25a–b. The lament ends with a straightforward concluding exclamation that the warriors have fallen and the weapons of war have perished. The patterning of the lament is intricate but, I have argued, aurally discernible based on the basic unfolding structure of the whole. The great number of possible correspondences within the lament has resulted in various structural proposals and interpretations.136 What I am arguing is that the emerging structure of the whole must guide how we organize these possible correspondences and how we understand their meaning and emotional impact, and thus interpret the poem. To summarize: • The repetition of 19b in 25a is a development; the repetition of 19b in 27a is a symmetrical correspondence. • The “daughters” of 20c–d and the “daughters” of 24a correspond within symmetrically arranged units. The “women” of 26c are part of the thematic continuation of lines 24a–d and lines 25a–26c. • Saul and Jonathan together are eulogized in the center section of the poem (22a–23e). The lament for Jonathan in 25a–26c corresponds symmetrically with the lament for Saul in 21a–e, but it is also a continuation of the Saul- Jonathan sequence initiated in line 23a (notice the chiastic reversal of the names from 22c–d), which is continued by the “daughters” mourning for Saul (24a–d) and the “brother” mourning for Jonathan (26a–c). Additionally, the lament for Jonathan in 25a–26c is a development of lines 19a–b. The lament for Jonathan is not only the most poignantly personal and emotional part of the poem; it is the complex site of convergence and culmination of all these correspondences. • The relationship of Saul and Jonathan is described as beloved and pleasant (23b), the same roots that are used of the relationship between David and Jonathan (26b, 26c). This correspondence is incidental to the structure of 136. Studies that discuss the structure of the lament include Freedman 1972; O’Connor 1997 (followed by Zapf 1984); Shea 1986; Linafelt 2008; Amzallag and Avriel 2010; and Grosser 2017.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 167 ]
the poem; it is neither a development/progression nor a symmetrical correspondence. The lament extols the relationship of Saul and Jonathan, and it extols the relationship between David and Jonathan, without structuring any connections between the two relationships. Through the shapes and patterns of the poem, the poet has succeeded in weaving together a lament for both fallen warriors, Saul and Jonathan, who together form the centerpiece of the poem. Yet through the correspondences, progressions, and expectations set up by the verbal artistry, the lament’s culmination comes just before its conclusion, as David mourns his dearest friend Jonathan, the “splendor” of Israel.
5.9. THE PERCEPTIBILITY OF SYMMETRY
As we have seen, symmetry is very common in biblical poetry as a structural organizing framework. This is not surprising, given the human everyday embodied experience of symmetry within us and symmetry around us: “The greater the biological relevance an object has for us the more will we be attuned to its recognition—and the more tolerant will therefore be our standards of formal correspondence” (Gombrich 1985: 6–7). However, we must not become overzealous to force all biblical poetic structures into a symmetrical mold. Symmetry is not the essence of biblical poetry structure; part-whole structuring of lines and line-groupings is.137 137. Sometimes a poet clearly avoids symmetrical structure, and we should ask why, rather than try to organize it as symmetrical. E.g., consider the middle line-pair of Isa 5:2 (lines c–d): ם־י ֶ�֖קב ָח ֵצ֣ב ּ֑בֹו ֶ ַתֹוכֹו וְ ג ֔ וַ ִּי ֶ֤בן ִמגְ ָּדל֙ ְּב (wayyiben migdāl) (bǝtôkô)| /(wǝgam-yeqeb) (ḥāṣēb bô)| (And-he-built a-tower) (in-its-midst,)| / (and-also~a-wine-vat) (he-hewed-out in-it.)| The line-pair is not quite symmetrical in the arrangement of its words, syntactic constituents, or prosodic phrases: (V O) (PP)| /(O) (V PP)|. The two lines are similar parts of a whole (they clearly belong together as a line-pair), but the line-pair resists syntactic/prosodic or semantic symmetry and its accompanying equilibrium: the action of 5:2d is not organized to correspond with 5:2c but is presented as yet another labor of love for the vineyard in a mounting contextual argument that culminates in the shock of the worthless grapes in line 2f. The reader can compare how the shape/effect of the whole verse changes if lines 2c–d are arranged with symmetrical syntax. Another example is the line-triple of Ps 13:6 [ET 13:5]. יהו֑ה ִ ּ֖כי גָ ַ ֣מל ָע ָ ֽלי׃ ָ יׁשּוע ֶ ֥תָך ָא ִ ׁ֥ש ָירה ַל ָ ֫ וַ ֲא ִנ֤י׀ ְּב ַח ְס ְּדָך֣ ָב ַט ְח ִּתי֘ ָי ֵ�֤ג֥ל ִל ִּ֗בי ִ ּֽב ( waʾănî) (bǝḥasdǝkā bāṭaḥtî) /(yāgēl libbî)| (bîšûʿātekā)| /(ʾāšîrâ layhwh)| (kî gāmal ʿālāy)| (But-as-for-me,) (in-your-faithful-love I-trust) / (let-exult my-heart)| (in-your- salvation)| / (I-will-sing to-YHWH)| (because he-has-requited me.)| [ 168 ] Gestalt Principles
So as not to fall into the error of forcing too much biblical poetry into a symmetrical mold, we must remember that noticing similarities or correspondences in a text is not the same thing as demonstrating that they are perceptible in the context of the whole, as it unfolds aurally in time. For example, a closed ABAʹ pattern is different from a closed ABAʹBʹ pattern in how it is set up and how it is completed, in spite of surface similarities in how they begin. As students of biblical poetry, we must learn to hear and articulate such differences. One final example can serve to illustrate the difference between noticing patterns and accounting for their perceptibility, Judges 5:29–30. TEXT 5.43 ḥakmôt138 śārôtêhā taʿănênnâ 29a The-wise-ones-of her-noblewomen answer;139 ʾap-hîʾ tāšîb ʾămārêhā lāh also~she returns her-words to-her(self):140
29b
יה ַּת ֲע ֶנ֑יּנָ ה ָ רֹות ֖ ֶ ַח ְכ ֥מֹות ָׂש יה ָ ֽלּה׃ ָ ף־היא ָּת ִ ׁ֥שיב ֲא ָמ ֶ ֖ר ִ֕ ַא
The first two lines (indicated by “/”) are not a chiastic symmetrical line-pair: the prosodic phrasing does not permit it. (I.e., the surface components are not [S PP] [V]/[V] [S PP] but rather [S] [PP V] /[V S] [PP].) This distinction may seem minor, but significantly, the word order/phrasing does not allow the two lines to emerge as a closed line-pair with a clinch of symmetrical completion (see section 6.2). The two lines are semantically similar, not symmetrical, and thus not inherently closed. Each has a “me” component (subject and verb), and each has a “God” component: trust/faithful-love, rejoice/ salvation. The third line begins with another first-person verb (like the first-person verb of the first line) and can be integrated into the emerging line-triple according to the same semantic “me”/“God” patterning: sing/dealings. It is the whole emerging line- grouping that allows us to structure 6c as a genuine part of the line-triple (rather than as two short lines that correspond with clauses). Notice that the textual tradition of LXX likewise has 6c as a line-unit, but it also has an additional line (taken from Ps 7:18b [ET 7:17b]), resulting in a figure of two line-pairs rather than a line-triple. The reason(s) for this addition are worth exploring in relation to the poetics of the psalm. 138. According to BHS, a few manuscripts read sg. ḥakmat for L’s pl. ḥakmôt; cf. Syr and Vulg. 139. The above translation follows the reading of L, in which ḥakmôt is plural, and the verb taʿănênnâ is parsed as 3fp. This translation requires the antecedent of “her words” in line 29b to be Sisera’s mother; i.e., Sisera’s mother returns (i.e., repeats) her own words to herself, reflecting what the wise noblewomen have said. (Cf. Sasson 2014: 279, who translates, “her wisest ladies would answer; [But she answers herself in reply].”) If the subject is read as singular, the verb can be parsed as 3fs with a 3fs suffix (see GKC §75w), and the alternative translation is, “The-wisest-of her-noblewomen answers-her.” The latter reading permits the antecedent of “her words” in line 29b to be the wisest noblewoman of 29a. 140. Regardless of which reading is followed in line 29a, I interpret the subject of line 29b, and thus the speaker of v. 30, as Sisera’s mother. I.e., “[Sisera’s mother] too speaks [option A: her own /option B: the wisest noblewoman’s] words to [herself].” The construction ʾap-hîʾ can be naturally read in context with an additional sense, not an emphatic one (see HALOT 1: 76): Sisera’s mother too speaks an answer to the question she posed in v. 28 regarding Sisera’s delay. Hēšîb dābār (“return word”) typically means “to answer” (cf. 1 Sam 17:30), but it can also be used of speaking someone’s
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 169 ]
hălōʾ yimṣǝʾû yǝḥallǝqû šālāl 30a “Surely141 they-are-finding, dividing plunder!?—
יִמ ְצ ֜אּו יְ ַח ְּל ֣קּו ָׁש ֗ ָלל ְ ֲה ֙ל ֹא
raḥam raḥămātayim lǝrōʾš geber a-“womb,” two-“wombs,”142 for-each man,
30b
ַ ֤ר ַחם ַר ֲח ָמ ַ֙ת ֙יִם ְל ֣ר ֹאׁש ֔ ֶּג ֶבר
šǝlal ṣǝbāʿîm lǝsîsǝrāʾ plunder-of patterned-cloths for-Sisera,
30c
יס ָ ֔רא ְ ְׁש ַל֤ל ְצ ָב ִע ֙ים ְל ִ ֣ס
šǝlal ṣǝbāʿîm riqmâ plunder-of patterned-cloths woven,
30d
ְׁש ַ ֥לל ְצ ָב ִ ֖עים ִר ְק ָ ֑מה
ṣebaʿ riqmātayim lǝṣawwǝʾrê šālāl patterned-cloth double-woven of-necks-of plunder.”143
30e
ארי ָׁש ָ ֽלל׃ ֥ ֵ ְֶ ֥צ ַבע ִר ְק ָמ ַ ֖תיִם ְל ַצּו
If we look at the four lines of 30b–e, we may observe that they can be structured in a symmetrical A/B/Bʹ/Aʹ pattern that is balanced by stress (4:3:3:4), with correspondences at various levels of language. In the A-lines (30b and 30e), raḥam raḥămātayim (“a-womb, two-wombs”) corresponds phonologically with ṣebaʿ riqmātayim (“patterned-cloth double-woven”), and lərōʾš geber (“for-each man”) corresponds morphologically and lexically with ləṣawwəʾrê šālāl (“for-necks-of plunder”). The B-lines (30c and 30d) both begin with šəlal ṣəbāʿîm (“plunder-of patterned-cloths”). In the context of the poem, however, lines 30b–e are not a four-line whole. They continue the five-line direct speech that begins in line 30a.144 Line 30a is words to someone else (as in Exod 19:8). Here, Sisera’s mother speaks words back to herself as an anxious mother trying to console herself. This interpretation allows for a single unified point of view for this poetic stanza: it is all framed through the perspective of Sisera’s mother (v. 28). 141. I have translated hălōʾ as “surely . . . !?” On the challenges of distinguishing pragmatically between the asseverative usage of this particle (“surely”), an explicit assertion, and the usage as a rhetorical question (“is not?”), an implied assertion, see Moshavi (2011) and Notarius (2012: 195–97). On the one hand, we might imagine the noblewomen/noblewoman first responding to Sisera’s mother’s question (in 29a) with the asseverative usage, “surely” (cf. Moshavi 2011: 97; and Notarius 2012: 196–97). On the other hand, when Sisera’s mother repeats the words to herself, she speaks as an anxious waiting mother trying to convince herself that her son is delayed because he is the victor. We can imagine her not simply asserting what she wants to believe is true but actually trying to persuade herself based on the (seemingly) obvious, for which a rhetorical question is a well-suited device (Moshavi 2011: 95). Since the Hebrew allows for both interpretations, I have tried to capture this in the translation through punctuation. 142. The noun raḥam (“womb”) in the list of plunder refers to a captive woman as material profit, alluding to her role in bearing children for her master (Sasson 2014: 310). 143. The meaning of MT’s “to/for/of necks of plunder” is unclear: whether the cloth came from the necks of the captives, or whether the cloth is now for the necks of the plunderers. 144. Line 30a is not likely to break into two lines. The length of 30a is expected in its context, and the word order contributes to the unity of the line. [ 170 ] Gestalt Principles
not integrated with the partially symmetrical pair that precedes it (29a–b) but begins a new line-grouping.145 In context, lines 30b–e unfold aurally in time, in relation to line 30a. Notice what a difference it makes if we hear each line unfolding in relation to the line that precedes it, beginning in 30a, rather than as a stable four- line symmetry that begins in 30b. The five-line figure as a whole has many repetitions of words and sounds but with no regular patterning or predictability. Line 30a juxtaposes similar words line-internally (yimṣǝʾû yǝḥallǝqû, “they-are-finding, dividing”), as does line 30b (raḥam raḥămātayim, “a-womb, two-wombs”). Line 30c repeats šəlal (“plunder-of,” from 30a) and introduces the correspondence ləsîsərāʾ (“to-Sisera”) to lərōʾš geber (“for-each man,” in 30b). Line 30d directly repeats šəlal ṣəbāʿîm (“plunder-of patterned-cloths”) from 30c. The sounds of riqmâ and riqmātayim in 30d and 30e are reminiscent of raḥam raḥămātayim in 30b. Line 30e produces the variation ṣebaʿ riqmātayim (“patterned-cloth double-woven”) for ṣəbāʿîm riqmâ (“patterned- cloths woven”) in 30d, and it ends with another repetition of šālāl (“plunder”; from 30a, 30c, and 30d). As a result, the “symmetry” of 30b–e is not heard at all in the unfolding whole of 30a–e; it is lost in the interference of patterns, in the many repetitions that integrate these five lines into an illusively patterned whole. The placement of lines 30b–e after line 30a changes how we hear the line structure unfold in part-to-whole relationships. Because of the aurality of free-rhythm biblical poetry, the listener must organize a segment of text in relation to what comes before it. Lines 30b–e might, in another context, emerge as a stable shape of the certain victor taking the spoils. But in this poem, the irregularly patterned repetitions that begin in line 30a—within lines and from line to line—interfere with the listener’s ability to perceive any symmetry in lines 30b–e. From the account of the battle, we already know that the kings of 5:19 “took no plunder.” The women’s assertion of delay due to plunder (30a) is undermined not just by our earlier view of the battle’s outcome but also by the shapes of the text. Instead of certainty, the irregularity and lack of predictable patterning in these lines project the fretfully repetitive musings of Sisera’s mother. For a moment, we join Sisera’s mother and view things through her window (5:28a–b). It is not enough to identify correspondences or repetitions in poetic texts; we must account for whether and how they are likely to be perceived as shapes and patterns in aural performance.
145. Unintegrated lines do occur in biblical poetry, as in 5:11e. It is possible to mentally (or vocally) perform 5:30a as an unintegrated line, but there are no cues in the text that would indicate that 30a should be heard as unintegrated with what follows.
S Y M M E T R Y , B ALANCE AN D IM B ALANCE
[ 171 ]
CHAPTER 6
Good Continuation, Closure, Requiredness, and Principled Lineations
In this chapter I explore the remaining Gestalt principles, good continuation and closure, and the concept of requiredness. How is it that one ABAB-patterned figure has the equilibrium of symmetry, and another ABAB-patterned figure creates an unfolding expectation for change within a continuous process? It is the emerging whole in mental organization, with its distinct structural differences, in spite of surface similarities, that accounts for the difference between the two figures in organization and effects. Good continuation is the tendency for patterns to perpetuate themselves in the mental process of the perceiver. In verbal art, continuation is not simply repetition; it implies change within a continuous process. Closure in perception refers to the grouping together of stimuli that form a closed figure. In verbal art, closure occurs as expectations for the structure of the emerging whole are met, and closure itself creates the expectation of nothing more. A related concept, requiredness, is the demand that one part of the perceptual field has on another. As I demonstrate through the examples in this chapter, biblical poetry exploits good continuation, closure, and requiredness for structure and effects. I conclude this part of the book on Gestalt principles with a discussion of how to move from Gestalt principles to principled lineations in the texts of biblical poetry.
L
ike symmetry, the topics of this chapter account for lines and line- groupings in biblical poetry, and they seamlessly move into broader aspects of biblical poetry structure. Good continuation deals with patterns that continue across lines or line-groupings, and closure can occur at any level of biblical poetic structure: lines and line-groupings, stanzas, and
Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0006
poems. The concept of requiredness, a property of wholes, relates to both symmetry and closure.
6.1. THE PRINCIPLE OF GOOD CONTINUATION
The very nature of biblical poetry—that it is arranged as part-whole figures of lines and line-groupings—disallows certain kinds of continuity. Not only must lines be heard distinctly in relation to one another; line-groupings must also be heard distinctly with perceptible integrity. (For contrast, consider how metrical poetries based on line templates allow the continuity of enjambment across line boundaries.)1 The lines of biblical poetry, however, still make up poems, coherent works of verbal art: to hear them meaningfully, the listener/ reader must be able to process some aspects of language as continuous motion and shapes. That is, the figures or line-groupings of a biblical poem must be heard as somehow connected to each other.2 Biblical poetry, like prose, can use syntax and semantics (from the clause level to the discourse level) to achieve continuity between segments.3 But the language of biblical poetry is organized or patterned as lines in other ways as well, and it has various means for achieving continuity between line- groupings. Certain patterns can perpetuate themselves across line-groupings, shaping expectations and thus poetic structure and effects. We can account for this through the principle of good continuation. The principle of good continuation states that “a shape or pattern will, other things being equal, tend to be continued in its initial mode of operation. . . . [T]he perception of a line or motion initiates a mental process, . . . which, following the mental line of least resistance, tends to be perpetuated and continued” (Meyer 1956: 92).4 This principle accounts for how we can see and hear separate and discrete stimuli as continuous motions and shapes. For example, in the two frames of figure 6.1, we perceive one continuous road, even though the frames are separated:
1. See section 7.1 on the problematic idea of “enjambment” in biblical poetry. 2. Another way of describing this connectedness is that the figures of a poem must be mentally organized into larger and larger wholes. I.e., they must be mentally integrated into larger groupings to create the unified whole of the poem. Continuity is one kind of integration. 3. For an example of extended syntactic continuity within poetic line-patterning, see Prov 1:10–15. For an example of semantic continuity between line-groupings, see Judg 5:13–18. 4. For a discussion of good continuation in the early Gestalt research, see Koffka 1935: 302–3. For Tsur’s application of the principle to poetry, see 2008: 116.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 173 ]
Figure 6.1. A continuous road
Good continuation also accounts for how we organize the curves in figure 6.2:
Figure 6.2. Continuity Palmer, Stephen E., Vision Science, p. 258, © 1999 Massachusetts Institute of Technology, by permission of The MIT Press.
Likewise, in the aural shapes of music, we can (quite remarkably) hear continuity in various processes in the midst of complex and overlapping stimuli, including, but not limited to, the continuity of melody and rhythm as discrete lines or shapes (Meyer 1956: 93–127). Continuation in art should not be confused with repetition: “Continuation always implies change within a continuous process.” In music, Meyer argues, “we expect continuation only so long as it appears significant and meaningful in the sense that it can be understood as motion toward a goal. If meaning becomes obscured, then change will be expected” (1956: 92).5 As we will see,
5. A related concept is saturation: “The principle of saturation is related, on the one hand, to the laws of good continuation and completion and, on the other, to the beliefs which the listener entertains as to the nature of aesthetic experience. Since the meaning of any sound term is a function of its relationships to other consequent terms which it indicates, our normal expectation is of progressive change and growth. [ 174 ] Gestalt Principles
continuation as change within a continuous process is key to understanding the difference between how continuation and symmetry unfold temporally in biblical poetry. Both might, on the surface, simply seem like repetition. But continuation unfolds with the expectation for change within a continuous process, and symmetry unfolds as the property of a whole with equilibrium. There are some patterns of language that, once established, have a degree of flexibility to perpetuate themselves, and there are other patterns that cannot perpetuate themselves so easily. As an example of the latter, in Micah 1:7 (text 4.17) the grammatical intensification pattern can be heard in lines a–c, but it cannot be imposed on the following words (lines d–e). A more flexible kind of patterning is rhythmic continuation across line-groupings, demonstrated in the following three examples, amid other language patterns. The first example is Judges 5:3, a six-line stanza. The perceptibility of the final two lines of Judg 5:3 as poetic lines can be accounted for, in part, through rhythmic continuation.6 TEXT 6.1 šimʿû mǝlākîm Hear, kings!
3a
ִׁש ְמ ֣עּו ְמ ָל ִ֔כים
haʾăzînû rōzǝnîm Give-ear, rulers!
3b
ַה ֲא ִז֖ינּו ֽר ֹזְ ִנ֑ים
ʾānōkî layhwh I [ ] to-YHWH,
3c
ָ ֽאנ ִֹ֗כי ַ ֽליהוָ ֙ה
ʾānōkî ʾāšîrâ I will-sing.
3d
ָאנ ִ ֹ֣כי ָא ִׁ֔ש ָירה
ʾăzammēr layhwh I-will-make-melody to-YHWH,
3e
יהו֖ה ָ ֲאזַ ֵּ֕מר ַ ֽל
ʾĕlōhê yiśrāʾēl the-God-of Israel.
3f
ֹלהי יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֽאל׃ ֥ ֵ ֱא
A figure which is repeated over and over again arouses a strong expectation of change both because continuation is inhibited and because the figure is not allowed to reach completion” (Meyer 1956: 135). 6. I am speaking here of poetic rhythm, not the rhythm of prosodic phonology (e.g., the regular patterning of major and minor phrase boundaries in lines 3c–d and 3e–f, in contrast to 3a–b). Poetic rhythm (cross-linguistically) depends upon the perception of the line, and the perception of the line in biblical poetry depends upon the combinational potential of all aspects of language (including prosodic phonology). The line has a cognitive reality that is distinct from the shapes of prosodic phonology, but we would expect poetic rhythm (perceived movement within the line and within line-groupings) to affect how a poem is vocally performed (as may be the case with the Masoretic cantillation here). If and how the Masoretic cantillation tradition is sensitive to poetic rhythm is a matter for further research.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 175 ]
The first line-pair (3a–b) can be perceived as a line-pair through symmetry (at multiple levels of language). The second line-pair (3c–d) can be perceived as a line-pair through line-initial repetition and matching syntactic structure (with backward verb ellipsis). The third line-pair (3e–f ), unlike the first two, is a single clause; ʾĕlōhê yiśrāʾēl (“the-God-of Israel”) is in apposition to yhwh (“YHWH”). In another context, the four words of 3e–f (ʾăzammēr layhwh ʾĕlōhê yiśrāʾēl, “I-will-make-melody to-YHWH, the-God-of Israel”) might be a single poetic line or a prose statement. It is the mind of the listener/reader that continues the rhythmic patterning (two-word lines, three-syllable words) from the previous four lines (3a–d) such that lines 3e–f can be heard (quite effortlessly) as the continuation of the motion begun in line 3a. The rhythmic continuation initiated by the first line-pair, however, is just one discrete shape among others. It allows the listener/reader to organize the final two lines as a line-pair and to organize the six lines as a connected stanza, but the part-whole structure of the whole stanza allows us to concurrently hear other patterns of continuation. While the second line-pair (3c–d) takes its clausal structure from (elliptical) syntactic symmetry, the surface structure is not symmetrical. The surface-structure patterning results from the exact repetition of the grammatical subject (the first word of each line): AB/AC.7 Simply described, the patterning is initial repetition followed by change. This simple patterning—initial repetition followed by change—continues (as an expanding nested pattern) into the following line-pair through exact repetition of layhwh (“to-YHWH”): AB/AC//DB/EF. Furthermore, at the lexical-semantic level, the three lines of 3d–f are also integrated according to patterned similarity. There are semantic similarities between ʾāšîrâ (“I-will-sing”) and ʾăzammēr (“I-will-make- melody”), and also yhwh (“YHWH”) and ʾĕlōhê (“God”). These similarities produce a different pattern of integration in 3d–f: WX/XY/YZ. Each of these three patterns—based on rhythm, word repetition, and lexical-semantic similarity— is a discrete pattern of continuation across the line-groupings.8 The rhythmic motion perpetuates itself; the other patterns contribute to the integration and continuous shape of the whole stanza. All three discrete patterns are arguably perceptible; that is, they potentially emerge from the words of the text because they can be heard within the organized structure of the whole, as it unfolds in time.9 Although the line-pair 3a–b is symmetrical, symmetrical expectations are not set up for the remaining line-pairs or the stanza as a whole. Patterned 7. Although ellipsis requires the matching of syntax, if the surface structure is largely fragmented, the pair of clauses is not necessarily perceived as symmetrical in poetic structure (section 5.4). Here, the exact repetition of the first word further accentuates the difference between the second words. Cf. text 4.12, ch. 4, n52. 8. Another layer of patterning that potentially integrates the four lines (3c–f ) is the line-initial ʾaleph repetition. 9. Gestalt theory posits that the mind can process amazing detail because of its ability to process organized and integrated wholes. [ 176 ] Gestalt Principles
continuation creates an expectation that differs from the expectation of symmetry. The stanza ends not with similarity but with change: the line-pair 3e–f is a single clause (rather than two, like the previous line-pairs). This change does not feel out of place or unexpected; rather, it feels as if the trajectory has landed (a strategy of closure, section 6.2). The change occurs within continuous processes, which allows the six-line figure to reach completion. A second example involving rhythmic continuation, among other kinds of patterned continuation, is Exodus 15:6–10. TEXT 6.2 yǝmînǝkā yhwh neʾdārî bakkōaḥ Your-right-hand, O-YHWH, magnificent in-the-power,
6a
הוה נֶ ְא ָּד ִ ֖רי ַּב ּ֑כֹ ַח ֔ ָ ְיְמינְ ָך֣ י ִֽ
yǝmînǝkā yhwh tirʿaṣ ʾôyēb your-right-hand, O-YHWH, shatters enemy.
6b
אֹויֽב׃ ֵ הו֖ה ִּת ְר ַ ֥עץ ָ ְיְמינְ ָך֥ י ִֽ
ûbǝrōb gǝʾônǝkā tahărōs qāmêkā 7a And-in-the-abundance-of your-exaltation, you- throw-down those-who-rise-up-against-you.
ּוב ֥ר ֹב ּגְ אֹונְ ָך֖ ַּת ֲה ֣ר ֹס ָק ֶ ֑מיָך ְ
tǝšallaḥ ḥărōnǝkā yōʾkǝlēmô kaqqaš You-send-forth your-burning-anger; it- consumes-them as-the-stubble.
7b
אכ ֵל֖מֹו ַּכ ַ ּֽקׁש׃ ְ ֹ ְּת ַׁש ַּל ֙ח ֲח ֣ר ֹנְ ָ֔ך י
ûbǝrûaḥ ʾappêkā neʿermû mayim And-by-the-breath-of your-nostrils, piled-up waters.10
8a
ּוב ֤ר ַּוח ַא ֙ ֶּפ ֙יָך ֶנ ֶ֣ע ְרמּו ַ֔מיִם ְ
niṣṣǝbû kǝmô-nēd nōzǝlîm Stood-up like~a-heap flowing-water.11
8b
מֹו־נ֖ד נֹזְ ִ ֑לים ֵ נִ ְּצ ֥בּו ְכ
qāpǝʾû tǝhōmōt bǝleb-yām Congealed depths in-heart-of~sea.12
8c
ב־יֽם׃ ָ מת ְּב ֶל ֹ ֖ ָֹ ֽק ְפ ֥אּו ְתה
ʾāmar ʾôyēb Said enemy:
9a
אֹוי֛ב ֵ ָא ַ ֥מר
ʾerdōp ʾaśśîg “I-will-pursue, I-will-overtake,
9b
ֶא ְר ּ֥ד ֹף ַא ִ ּׂ֖שיג
ʾăḥallēq šālāl I-will-divide plunder.
9c
ֲא ַח ֵּל֣ק ָׁש ָל֑ל
timlāʾēmô napšî Will-be-filled-by-them my-throat.13
9d
ִּת ְמ ָל ֵ ֣אמֹו נַ ְפ ִׁ֔שי
10. I.e., “waters piled up.” 11. I.e., “flowing water stood up . . .” 12. I.e., “depths congealed . . .” 13. Cf. Propp 1999: 524. Another possible translation is “desire.”
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 177 ]
ʾārîq ḥarbî I-will-empty14 my-sword.
9e
ָא ִ ֣ריק ַח ְר ִּ֔בי
tôrîšēmô yādî Will-take-possession-of-them my-hand.”
9f
יׁשמֹו יָ ִ ֽדי׃ ֖ ֵ ּתֹור ִ
nāšaptā bǝrûḥăkā kissāmô yām 10a You-blew with-your-breath, covered-them sea. ṣālălû kaʿôperet bǝmayim ʾaddîrîm They-sank like-lead in-waters magnific.
רּוחָך֖ ִּכ ָ ּ֣סמֹו ָי֑ם ֲ נָ ַ ׁ֥ש ְפ ָּת ְב
10b עֹופ ֶרת ְּב ַ ֖מיִם ַא ִּד ִ ֽירים׃ ֶ ֔ ָ ֽצ ֲל ֙לּו ַ ּֽכ
The Masoretic verses reflect semantic units that correspond with the poetic structure. The first two lines (6a–b) can be heard as a line-pair through line- initial repetition (yǝmînǝkā yhwh, “your-right-hand, O-YHWH”). This pattern, due to the syntactic incompletion of 6a, is forward moving (see text 4.12, n52 in ch. 4), but 7a begins a new line-grouping.15 The repetition in 6a–b, with its phrasing space after the vocative, also initiates a rhythmic pattern. This pattern (of four words per line-unit with 2 +2 phrasing shapes) continues into the next line-pair: in line 7a, through a fronted prepositional phrase, and in line 7b, through two asyndetic clauses. Furthermore, the rhythmic patterning foregrounds the mid-line similarity of sounds (between gǝʾônǝkā [7a] and ḥărōnǝkā [7b], both of which have the same historical vowel pattern) that draws these two lines together as a line-pair. The rhythmic pattern continues into line 8a. The opening of line 8a (ûbǝrûaḥ, “and-in/by-breath-of”) also repeats morphological and phonological elements of the opening construction of line 7a (ûbǝrōb, “and-in/by-abundance-of”; historically, *ûbarub), initiating a new line-grouping that is structured in continuity with the preceding one. But with line 8b, the rhythmic pattern changes, to three prosodic words per line.16 This change in pattern is confirmed by line 8c. The three lines of the line-grouping in v. 8 are unified through semantic similarity. Notice that lines 8b–c, in spite of the rhythm change, are not set apart as a symmetrical line- pair (as a subwhole); the word order does not allow it. Verse 8 is an integrated three-line grouping, in spite of the mid-figure change in rhythmic patterning. Thus far we have focused on how the lines and line-groupings in vv. 6–8 can be heard as organized units of poetic structure, through patterns of continuation that involve both repeated elements of language and rhythmic phrasing. 14. The expression refers to drawing the sword, but the precise interpretation of it is disputed (HALOT 2: 1228). 15. The conjunction at the beginning of 7a is not simply conjoining the clause of 7a with the clauses of 6a–b. Rather, 7a–b and 8a–c have integrity as line-groupings (on integrity, see section 7.1). The conjunctions in 7a and 8a are conjoining the utterances of v. 6, v. 7, and v. 8. 16. Even if we restructure MT’s three prosodic words as four prosodic words (removing the maqqef), the shape of the prosodic phrasing still changes in 8b (3 +1). [ 178 ] Gestalt Principles
There are also integrating lexical-semantic continuities between adjacent lines of different line-pairs. The enemy (ʾôyēb) of 6b is continued as “those who rise up against you” (qāmêkā) in 7a. The anger (ḥărōnǝkā) of 7b is continued with the nostrils (ʾappêkā) of 8a, the organ symbolic of anger in Hebrew (HALOT 1: 76). These similarities further integrate the three distinct line-groupings. All of these continuities come to a stop with line 8c. (The rhythmic change in 8b–c and the change from line-pairs to a line-triple prepare us for this change, or break in continuity: the break is not unexpected.) Semantically, the poem also halts: on not one, not two, but three distinct images of motionless water (8a–c). Into this break the enemy speaks, and he spouts boast after boast. (The section simply begins, ʾāmar ʾôyēb, “says enemy”—letting the feel and shape of the words communicate the tone.) The rhythm changes in 9a, back to two- word shapes, but with a very different feel from lines 6a–8a. These short clauses emerge as two-word lines arranged in line-triples. The lines of 9a–c cohere through repetition of the word-initial sound ʾaleph (with change in the sixth word), and the lines of 9d–f cohere through similarity (verbs followed by suffixed nouns), especially the line-final morphology. Furthermore, the line-triple 9d–f is arranged in A/B/A symmetry (through syntax, morphology, and lexical semantics). These two patterned line-triples make up a distinct rhythmic section, a break in the various previous strands of continuity. As line 10a begins (nāšaptā bǝrûḥăkā, “you-blew with-your-breath”), the break—and the stillness—is over. God’s actions resume, specifically with his “breath/wind” (as in 8a) moving the “sea” (yām, as in 8c). Not only do the lexical and semantic elements continue; the initial line rhythm (2 +2) returns for this final line-pair of the stanza. The listener/reader can hear this line-pair (10a–b) as both the continuation of the earlier motion and also its completion: the restored movement of the waters and the demise of the enemy in them. Furthermore, the word describing the waters in 10b (ʾaddîrîm, “magnific”) is from the same root as the word describing YHWH in 6a (neʾdārî, “magnificent”). There is both a closural (literal) return of the waters at the end of the stanza and also a closural lexical return (see section 6.2 on closure), linking the power of the waters to the power of YHWH. The patterns of this poetic passage emerge from how the language is arranged contextually, not from any external template.17 The “free” rhythms establish and perpetuate themselves, change, and resume—based on the shapes of the text and the mind’s ability to perceive these shapes in continuous motion. Within the part-whole organization of the lines and line- groupings, different strands of patterning can also be heard. These strands are discrete motions or shapes (with their own distinct starts and continuations 17. Contra the many metrical attempts to understand the line structure of this poem; cf. the discussion in Durham 1987: 204–5.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 179 ]
or breaks). Like rhythm and melody in music, the unique interplay of these strands gives this poem its potential for effects as the lines unfold: the movements of God’s actions, the stillness of the waves, the words of the enemy, and finally, the convergence of God’s actions with the water’s resumed movement and the end of the enemy. A third example of rhythmic continuity is found in Judges 5:23–24. Rhythmic continuity accounts for the lineation of v. 24 that I am proposing. Without the preceding context, we might organize the lineation of v. 24 as follows: TEXT 6.3 tǝbōrak minnāšîm yāʿēl Blessed among-women is-Jael,
*24a
ְּתב ַֹר ְ֙ך ִמּנָ ִׁ֔שים יָ ֕ ֵעל
ʾēšet ḥeber haqqênî wife-of Heber the-Kenite.
*24b
ֵ ֖א ֶׁשת ֶ ֣ח ֶבר ַה ֵּק ִינ֑י
minnāšîm bāʾōhel tǝbōrāk Among-women in-the-tent is-she-blessed.
*24c
א ֶהל ְּתב ָ ֹֽרְך׃ ֹ ֖ ִמּנָ ִ ׁ֥שים ָּב
This results in three three-word lines of “normal” length in biblical poetry and, it might seem on first glance, an A/B/A symmetry of the whole line-triple. But in what sense do the components of line *24a correspond with those of line *24c? Neither the words or phrases are arranged in the same or chiastic order (compare Exod 15:9d–f, text 6.2).18 The phonetic similarities of yāʿēl (“Jael”) and ʾōhel (“tent”) do not contribute to symmetrical organization, even if there is a play on words. Furthermore, though there is semantic similarity between lines *24a and *24c, it is not clear how this relationship would be organized as semantic symmetry: Why does *24a begin with “women” in general and narrow to “women in the tent” in *24c? In spite of the length of line 24a (which is uncomfortably long for most modern biblical scholars), the perceptibility of the shapes of the following lineation is much easier to account for than the above lineation, if v. 24 is heard as part of the larger unfolding whole. TEXT 6.4 ʾôrû mērôz ʾāmar malʾak yhwh “Curse Meroz,” said the-angel-of YHWH,
23a
הוה ֔ ָ ְ֣אֹורּו ֵמ ֗רֹוז ָא ַמ ֙ר ַמ ְל ַ ֣אְך י
ʾōrû ʾārôr yōšǝbêhā “curse bitterly her-inhabitants,
23b
יה ָ ארּו ָא ֖רֹור י ְֹׁש ֶ ֑ב ֹ֥
18. Exodus 15:9d–f is also different in that it is syntactically integrated as a whole. Furthermore, the A/B/A symmetry of Exod 15:9d–f is part of a larger integrated grouping of two line-triples. [ 180 ] Gestalt Principles
kî lōʾ-bāʾû lǝʿezrat yhwh for they-did-not~come to-the-help-of YHWH,
23c
הוה ֔ ָ ְאּו ְל ֶעזְ ַ ֣רת י ֙ א־ב ָ֙ ֹ ִ ּ֤כי ֽל
lǝʿezrat yhwh baggibbôrîm to-the-help-of YHWH against-the-warriors.”
23d
ּבֹורים׃ ֽ ִ ִהו֖ה ַּבּג ָ ְְל ֶעזְ ַ ֥רת י
tǝbōrak minnāšîm yāʿēl ʾēšet ḥeber haqqênî Blessed among-women is-Jael, wife-of Heber the-Kenite.
24a
ְּתב ַֹר ְ֙ך ִמּנָ ִׁ֔שים יָ ֕ ֵעל ֵ ֖א ֶׁשת ֶ ֣ח ֶבר ַה ֵּק ִינ֑י
minnāšîm bāʾōhel tǝbōrāk 24b Among-women in-the-tent is-she-blessed.
א ֶהל ְּתב ָ ֹֽרְך׃ ֹ ֖ ִמּנָ ִ ׁ֥שים ָּב
mayim šāʾal ḥālāb nātānâ . . . (For) water he-asked, milk she-gave . . .
ַ ֥מיִם ָׁש ַ ֖אל ָח ָל֣ב נָ ָ ֑תנָ ה
25a
The line-pair that begins this section (23a–b) can be organized based upon line-initial repetition of ʾôrû (“curse!”). The second line brings both repetition and change within the continuity of the figure. The line-pair is noticeably imbalanced (with a distinct rhythm of two segments followed by one, i.e., 2 + 3 words /3 words), but it does not produce thwarted expectations; the line- pair is not arranged symmetrically. Likewise, in the second line-pair (23c–d), the second line brings both repetition and change: this time the continuation is repetition of the end of 23c (lǝʿezrat yhwh, “to-the-help-of YHWH”) at the beginning of 23d (an AB/BC pattern).19 The next line-pair (24a–b) begins with the verb tǝbōrak (“blessed”). This similarity with ʾôrû (“curse”) initiates continuity with 23a. The active listener/ reader is supposed to hear 24a in relation to 23a (as two contrasting responses/ outcomes). Notice, however, that 24a–b does not unfold in relation to 23a–b in a way that sets up symmetrical expectations (e.g., expectations for a symmetrical eight-line grouping). For comparison, if we remove minnāšîm, “among- women,” from 24a, thus tightening the similarity (of both the components and their positions) between 24a and 23a, the expectation for symmetry increases. Rather, in the text as it stands, line 24a can be heard in continuity with line 23a; its changes (or differences) occur within a process of continuation.20 The 19. This pattern, on the surface, somewhat resembles Num 23:10a–b (text 5.12), an ABC/BCD pattern. Based on the organization of the whole, however, I am arguing that Judg 5:23c–d is more likely to be heard as a pattern of continuation, whereas Num 23:10a–b is more likely to be heard as a pattern of partial symmetry. Cf. text 6.26, Judg 5:11c–d, esp. n87. 20. The presence of the word/idea “women” here contributes to the poem in another way. The poem is transitioning from the battle to two scenes dominated by women (Jael and Sisera’s mother). The twofold mention of “women” in v. 24 shifts the audience’s view to female domains, which is where these scenes take place.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 181 ]
continuity enables the listener/reader to hear 24a—a particularly long line— and 24b, a relatively short line, as a continuation of the rhythmic pattern initiated by the line-pair 23a–b (two segments followed by one, i.e., 3 +3 words /3 words). Line 24b, like 23b, is a continuation of the previous line (through repetition of minnāšîm, “among women,” and tǝbōrak, “she-is-blessed”). But unlike 23a–b, in which the curse intensifies in the second line, the blessing of 24a–b sharpens its focus on Jael as a tent-woman in the second line, thus providing the setting for the specific event into which the poem then directly moves.21 That is, lines 24a–b are not followed by a line-pair patterned after 23c–d, nor was such an expectation set up. Rather, change in 25a occurs within an expected process of continuation of the text that is moving toward a meaningful goal—here, a description of how Jael, unlike Meroz, did come to the help of YHWH. The previous three examples of continuation have demonstrated that poetic rhythm can function in biblical poetry as a discrete continuing motion that has the potential to perpetuate its patterning and thus influence line structure. Furthermore, as we have seen, continuation can function in other ways in a poem through various kinds of discrete and often layered patterned shapes. Continuation must be understood as change within a continuous process, that is, as an expectation for both continuity and change. Change may come as part of the patterning (as in Judg 5:3, text 6.1), as a gradual development into something new (as in Judg 5:23a–25a, text 6.4), or as a break that can be anticipated (because of how the changes unfold, as in Exod 15:6–10, text 6.2).22 In the following final example of continuation, change comes as an unanticipated disruption—an expected deliverance yet surprising in how it unfolds. We have already examined how a number of lines emerge in the prayer of Jonah; issues of lineation are here relegated to the footnotes. Jonah, praying from inside the great fish (Jonah 2:2 [ET 2:1]), recounts his deliverance from drowning in the sea. The prayer opens with a line-pair (Jonah 2:3 [ET 2:2]) in which the lines are organized symmetrically by two semantic components: Jonah prays from distress and YHWH answers/hears. These opening lines symmetrically structure and summarize the elements that are at the heart of the poem (Jonah 2:4–8 [ET 2:3–7]). The structure of the whole poem,
21. This is why I do not use the more common (and possible) translation: “Most blessed is Jael among women . . . , of women in the tent most blessed.” (Sasson 2014: 306, too, does not opt for the superlative.) The semantic movement of the line-pair is not from Jael as the most blessed woman of all to Jael as the most blessed woman of just the tent-dwellers (which is rather anticlimactic). Rather, the movement is from Jael as blessed among all women to Jael as a specific blessed tent-dwelling woman. 22. Cf. Meyer on music, on disturbances in continuation as either gaps (halted, then continued) or changes, in which another progression takes the place of the previous progression (1956: 93). [ 182 ] Gestalt Principles
however, arranges elements quite differently from the opening line-pair. The result of the patterning is that even though the deliverance is expected by the listener/reader, it comes unexpectedly (just as it did for Jonah). I first discuss the overall patterning of the poem, and then I walk through how the patterning unfolds in the text. The poem’s overall structure is as follows: pening summary (2 lines, v. 3 [ET v. 2]): Jonah prays from distress, God O answers A (3+2 lines, v. 4 [ET v. 3]): Jonah’s distress B (2+2 lines, v. 5 [ET v. 4]): Jonah’s prayer from distress (ends “to your holy temple”) Aʹ (3+2 lines, 6a–7b [ET 5a–6b]): Jonah’s distress Intervention (2 lines, 7c–d [ET 6c–d]): God’s deliverance Bʹ (2+2 lines, v. 8 [ET v. 7]): Jonah’s prayer from distress (ends “to your holy temple”) C (2+2 lines, 9a–10b [ET 8a–9b]): Jonah’s promise to God in response Closing statement (unintegrated line, 10c [ET 9c]): “Salvation belongs to YHWH” After the opening line-pair, Jonah’s prayer takes the patterning of ABA . . . (distress –prayer –distress . . . ), creating the expectation for another B unit.23 There are, however, two possible mental organizations for the emerging structure. Recall that same-order ABAB patterns (unlike chiastic patterns) are not inherently closed wholes. One possibility is that the pattern will be completed as a subsection of the poem with ABAB symmetry, that is, as a symmetrical subwhole of the poem with internal equilibrium. A second possibility is that the pattern will continue as a perpetuation of the AB . . . patterning, as a continuous process with development or change. Either way, the ABA . . . shape produces an expectation for another “B,” and the expectation is thwarted by the intervention. What is different about the two possibilities is the nature of the thwarted expectation: Is the equilibrium offset or is the continuity interrupted? To understand the artistry of this poem we must hear the ABA . . . shape as a pattern of good continuation, not as emerging symmetry.24
23. In context, this is not a three-part symmetry (ABAʹ); lines 4a–7b do not form a closed whole (semantically or in any other way). 24. This is not to say that symmetry and good continuation must be mutually exclusive in the organization of a poem. In David’s lament (section 5.8, text 5.42), the processing of the poem’s symmetrical structure requires the listener/reader to concurrently hear the symmetrical ABCBʹAʹ patterning and also discrete patterns of continuation. Most notably, the 4 +5–line pattern must be heard as continuing throughout the B, C, and Bʹ sections in order for the symmetry to be heard. Each B section must also be heard as the continuation of B2 in relation to B1. Symmetry and good continuation operate together in the mental processing of the structure of the whole poem.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 183 ]
The complete prayer of Jonah (Jonah 2:3–10 [ET 2:2–9]) reads as follows: TEXT 6.5 Opening summary qārāʾtî miṣṣārâ lî ʾel-yhwh wayyaʿănēnî I-called-out from-distress to-me25 to~YHWH, and-he-answered-me.
3b
הו֖ה ַו�ּֽיַ ֲע ֵנ֑נִ י ָ ְאתי ִמ ָ ּ֥צ ָרה ִ ֛לי ֶאל־י ִ ָ֠ק ָר
3c
קֹולי׃ ֽ ִ ִמ ֶּב ֶ֧טן ְׁש ֛אֹול ִׁשַּו ְ֖ע ִּתי ָׁש ַ ֥מ ְע ָּת
4a
צּול ֙ה ָ וַ ַּת ְׁש ִל ֵיכ֤נִ י ְמ
bilbab yammîm into-heart-of seas,
4b
יַּמים ִ֔ ִּב ְל ַ ֣בב
wǝnāhār yǝsōbǝbēnî and-sea-current surrounded-me.
4c
וְ נָ ָ ֖הר יְ ס ְֹב ֵ ֑בנִ י
kol-mišbārêkā wǝgallêkā All~your-breakers and-your-waves
4d
ל־מ ְׁש ָּב ֶ ֥ריָך וְ גַ ֶּל֖יָך ִ ָּכ
ʿālay ʿābārû over-me passed. B waʾănî ʾāmartî And-I said:
4e
ָע ַ ֥לי ָע ָ ֽברּו׃
5a
וַ ֲא ִנ֣י ָא ַ֔מ ְר ִּתי
nigraštî minneged ʿênêkā 5b “I-have-been-driven from-before your-eyes.
נִ גְ ַ ֖ר ְׁש ִּתי ִמ ֶּנ�֣גֶ ד ֵע ֶינ֑יָך
mibbeṭen šǝʾôl šiwwaʿtî šāmaʿtā qôlî From-the-belly-of Sheol I-cried-for-help; you-heard my-voice. A wattašlîkēnî mǝṣûlâ And-you-cast-me the-deep,26
ʾak ʾôsîp lǝhabbîṭ Yet may-I-continue to-look27
5c
אֹוסיף ְל ַה ִּ֔ביט ֣ ִ ַ ֚אְך
25. I.e., “from my distress.” 26. I.e., “into the deep.” 27. The interpretation of this line is contested owing to the different possible functions of the particle ʾak. I have followed Sasson’s suggestion of “a rhetorical question expressing a wish” because, as he says, it makes good sense in context. The particle ʾak is translated according to its restrictive/adversative function, “yet, nevertheless”—since the sentiment of 5c–d is in sharp contrast with the reality of 5b. Rather than view the remainder of the clause as an expression of Jonah’s bold resolve to continue looking to God’s temple in spite of being driven away (an interpretation that seems inconsistent with Jonah’s own part in fleeing from God’s presence, 1:10), I have translated the remainder of the clause as a question of uncertainty (unmarked by an interrogative particle), expressing Jonah’s wish or desire (through the imperfect) to continue to look toward God’s presence. For a more detailed discussion, see Sasson 1990: 179–81. [ 184 ] Gestalt Principles
ʾel-hêkal qodšekā to~temple-of your-holiness?”
5d
ל־ה ַיכ֖ל ָק ְד ֶ ֽׁשָך׃ ֵ ֶא
6a
ד־נ ֶפׁש ֶ֔ ֲא ָפ ֤פּונִ י ַ֙מ ֙יִם ַע
tǝhôm yǝsōbǝbēnî Watery-abyss surrounded-me.
6b
ְּת ֖הֹום יְ ס ְֹב ֵ ֑בנִ י
sûp ḥābûš lǝrōʾšî Seaweed was-twisted around-my-head.
6c
אׁשי׃ ֽ ִ ֹ ֖סּוף ָח ֥בּוׁש ְלר
lǝqiṣbê hārîm yāradtî To-the-roots-of mountains I-went-down.
7a
ְל ִק ְצ ֵ ֤בי ָה ִר ֙ים יָ ַ ֔ר ְד ִּתי
hāʾāreṣ bǝriḥêhā baʿădî lǝʿôlām The-earth—its-bars (were) behind-me for-ever. Intervention (Disruption) wattaʿal miššaḥat ḥayyay And-you-brought-up from-pit my-life,
7b
עֹול֑ם ָ יה ַב ֲע ִ ֖די ְל ָ ָה ָ ֛א ֶרץ ְּב ִר ֶ ֥ח
7c
וַ ַ ּ֧ת ַעל ִמ ַ ּׁ֛ש ַחת ַח ַּי֖י
yhwh ʾĕlōhāy 7d YHWH my-God!28 Bʹ bǝhitʿaṭṭēp ʿālay napšî 8a When-growing-faint upon-me my-breath,
ֹלהי׃ ֽ ָ הו֥ה ֱא ָ ְי
Aʹ ʾăpāpûnî mayim ʿad-nepeš Encompassed-me water as-far-as~throat.
ְּב ִה ְת ַע ֵ ּ֤טף ָע ַ ֙לי נַ ְפ ִׁ֔שי
ʾet-yhwh zākārtî ~YHWH I-remembered,
8b
הו֖ה זָ ָ ֑כ ְר ִּתי ָ ְֶאת־י
wattābôʾ ʾēlêkā tǝpillātî and-came to-you my-prayer,
8c
וַ ָּת ֤בֹוא ֵא ֶ ֙ל ֙יָך ְּת ִפ ָּל ִ֔תי
ʾel-hêkal qodšekā to~temple-of your-holiness.
8d
ל־ה ַיכ֖ל ָק ְד ֶ ֽׁשָך׃ ֵ ֶא
C mǝšammǝrîm hablê-šāwʾ Those-who-hold-to idols-of~emptiness
9a
י־ׁשוְ א ֑ ָ ְמ ַׁש ְּמ ִ ֖רים ַה ְב ֵל
ḥasdām yaʿăzōbû their-mercy forsake.
9b
ַח ְס ָ ּ֖דם יַ ֲע ֹֽזבּו׃
28. This segment of text (7c–d) is best lineated as a line-pair, rather than as a single unintegrated line, not only because it provides a part-whole structured line-pair (as expected in biblical poetry) but also because the word order of line 7c (V PP O) contributes to the closure of the line-unit; see section 6.3, text 6.24.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 185 ]
waʾănî bǝqôl tôdâ ʾezbǝḥâ-lāk And-I with-a-voice-of thanksgiving shall-sacrifice~to-you;
10a
ה־ּלְך ָ ֔ ּתֹוד ֙ה ֶאזְ ְּב ָח ָ וַ ֲא ִ֗ני ְּב ֤קֹול
ʾăšer nādartî ʾăšallēmâ that-which I-have-vowed I-shall-complete.29
10b
ֲא ֶ ׁ֥שר נָ ַ ֖ד ְר ִּתי ֲא ַׁש ֵּל ָ֑מה
10c
יהוה׃ ס ֽ ָ ׁשּוע ָתה ַל ֖ ָ ְי
Closing statement yǝšûʿātâ layhwh Salvation (belongs) to-YHWH!
The opening of Jonah’s prayer (3b–c) focuses on two specific actions: Jonah called for help, and God answered/heard. The line-pair is arranged with symmetry and stability and a sense of certainty (which need not exclude amazement on Jonah’s part). In sharp contrast, as Jonah continues his prayer, the stability and certainty quickly vanish. The subsequent line-groupings resist symmetry, with its inherent equilibrium. The first section of Jonah’s prayer (A) recalls Jonah being thrown into the sea (1:15) and depicts it as a divine, not human, act (cf. Jonah 1:12, 14). Jonah’s distress is so deep not just because he is surrounded by water but because he is in the heart of the sea where God has hurled him and God’s breakers and waves pass over him. The imagery is of the primeval sea, the cosmic chaos waters. Jonah prays (B), acknowledging that God has driven him away from his presence, and he expresses his desire, with uncertainty, that he be able to continue to look to God’s presence (represented by God’s temple).30 At this point, the poem could move to God’s response, but it does not. It keeps Jonah in his state of uncertainty, resuming the description of Jonah’s distress and the chaos waters surrounding him (Aʹ). Notice that although Aʹ repeats the verb yǝsōbǝbēnî (“surrounded-me”) and includes words that share semantic similarities with words in A (mǝṣûlâ “deep”/tǝhôm “watery-abyss” and yammîm “seas”/mayim “water”), the poem does not arrange these correspondences in symmetrical positions. Jonah’s situation of distress in the water continues, but (just like the line-groupings of 4a–5d) the whole resists symmetry or equilibrium. Furthermore, references to God completely disappear in 6a–7b, and the situation grows even more dire: Jonah’s trajectory is (still) away from God and life, toward death and deeper depths. The water is about to cut off Jonah’s breathing (6a). Not only is he in the watery abyss (tǝhôm, 6b), he descends as low as he can go, to the roots of the mountains, the waters under the earth (7a). As Jonah reaches the bottom, we hear the 29. On the lineation of 9a–10b, see section 6.3, text 6.25, and section 7.1, text 7.4. 30. See n27, this chapter. [ 186 ] Gestalt Principles
phonetically heaviest line of all, with four stresses/words (7b). Semantically, the line is “heavy” too: Jonah is eternally trapped behind the bars of the underworld, cut off from life and God’s presence. Things cannot get worse. Based on the poem’s patterning (ABA . . .), we expect another prayer (B), a cry for help from Jonah, and an answer from God. After all, he called out for help, and God answered (2:3). Instead, though, we experience a disruption of the ABAB pattern—and also a sudden reversal of the continuation of descent in A and Aʹ: God brings up Jonah’s life from the pit! This disruption in the expected patterning is simultaneously a continuation of a different strand in the text: a grammatical continuation of the wayyiqtol verb from 4a, where the ABA . . . patterning started: “and you cast me (wattašlîkēnî) . . . and you brought up (wattaʿal) my life.” (Again, the event is depicted as a divine act, though the agent was the great fish.) The expected deliverance has come (even with grammatical continuity), but it has broken in as an unexpected disruption in the patterning. We were expecting deliverance, but it still has the potential to surprise us. The disruption, however, is not the end of the continuity of the ABA . . . patterning but a gap or delay. After God’s intervention, the poem continues right where it left off, with the anticipated B section concerning Jonah’s prayer. Jonah recalls in Bʹ that when he was almost dead, he remembered YHWH (8a–b) and prayed (8c). Jonah’s deliverance is confirmation that, even though Jonah was driven from God’s presence, his prayer did reach God, “to his holy temple” (8d). Line 8d is an exact repetition of 5d: it resolves the uncertainty of 5c–d and brings completion to the entire ABAB figure. The resolution of the figure is not concerned merely with Jonah’s deliverance from death. It is also integrally related to the restoration of the Jonah-YHWH relationship: YHWH received Jonah’s prayer. Or, to use the (non-chronological) language of v. 3, YHWH answered and heard. While this resolves the ABAB figure, the whole poem is not quite finished. It changes to a new section (C), in which Jonah responds to God’s deliverance with promises of sacrifices of thanksgiving and fulfillment of vows.31 The final statement (“Salvation belongs to YHWH”) closes the poem. Continuation, as we have seen, is the perpetuation of a shape or pattern, with the expectation (in art) for movement toward something meaningful.
31. This section of the prayer, within the immediate context of Jonah 2, provides Jonah’s response to his deliverance, with semantic links to the temple imagery of 2:5, 8 (ET 2:4, 7). In this way it serves as a fitting conclusion to the prayer. (For analogous biblical psalms, see Sasson 1990: 168–201.) Additionally, in the larger context of the narrative, it is linked to Jonah 1:16, the conclusion of the first narrative segment (Jonah 1), in which the sailors, who serve other gods, offer sacrifices and vows to YHWH in response to his clear deliverance from the storm. The irony of Jonah’s words in 2:9 (which the reader can see but the narrative character Jonah cannot) is that these non-Israelite pagan sailors nearly got destroyed because of Jonah’s disobedience, not their own lack of piety, as well as by their own attempts to extend Jonah mercy!
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 187 ]
Patterns of continuation in biblical poems inevitably change, or they would become meaningless.32 In Jonah’s prayer, the ABAB pattern resolves, and shortly thereafter, the poem concludes. Concluding is not the same thing as stopping. To account for this, we need to explore the Gestalt principle of closure.
6.2. THE PRINCIPLE OF CLOSURE
In Gestalt theory, the principle of closure states that visual stimuli tend to be grouped together if they form a closed figure (Wertheimer 1938: 83). That is, closed figures are simpler—and thus, all things equal, easier to see as figures—than open ones (Metzger 2006: 10, 21–22). For example, closing the shapes of figure 6.2 affects the organization of the whole, specifically, how the curves are grouped. The principle of closure competes with good continuation (figure 6.3).
Continuity
Closure
Figure 6.3. Continuity and Closure Stephen E. Palmer, Vision Science, p. 258, © 1999 Massachusetts Institute of Technology, by permission of The MIT Press.
Closure, like symmetry, is a property of wholes. A whole, not its parts, is closed or open (Wertheimer 1938: 83). Like other part-whole principles, closure is based on the contextual organization of the whole: how the whole is organized determines whether or not a shape is closed. While closure is experienced in different ways in the visual spatial field and temporal verbal art, Barbara Herrnstein Smith proposes that it is indeed a unified principle: “Whether spatially or temporally perceived, a structure appears ‘closed’ when it is experienced as integral: coherent, complete, and stable.” But closure in temporal contexts is focused on a distinct termination point, and thus temporal relations allow for a certain kind of finality and conclusiveness 32. This is not to say that meaninglessness cannot serve its own artful purposes. We might consider, e.g., whether the continuation in Eccl 3:1–8 moves toward anything meaningfully, or whether it is set up to feel meaningless (in contrast to the arrangement of the lyrics in the folk song by Pete Seeger). Cf. Chavel 2018. [ 188 ] Gestalt Principles
that pure spatial relations do not.33 “We tend to think of conclusions when a sequence of events has a relatively high degree of structure, when, in other words, we can perceive these events as related to one another by some principle of organization or design that implies the existence of a definite termination point. Under these circumstances, the occurrence of the terminal event is a confirmation of expectations that have been established by the structure of the sequence, and is usually distinctly gratifying. The sense of stable conclusiveness, finality, or ‘clinch’ which we experience at that point is what is referred to here as closure” (Smith 1968: 2).34 Thus, closure in temporal verbal art coincides with the confirmation of expectations for the whole established by the structure that has emerged in the mental processing of the listener/ reader. We have encountered many examples of this temporal “clinch” or click of completion in symmetrical organization. Symmetrically patterned figures are inherently closed, owing to the nature of symmetry as patterned organization of the whole. Reverse-order, or chiastic (ABCCBA), patterns emerge unambiguously as closed symmetrical wholes; same-order patterns (ABCABC) depend on contextual cues or conventional expectations or both for the listener/reader to cognitively structure the pattern as a symmetrical whole as it unfolds (section 5.1). Other patterns are inherently open (cf. Smith 1968: 27– 28), like the intensifying pattern of Mic 1:7a–c (text 4.17). We can describe the intensifying pattern as stopping at the end of the third line, because it does not continue further. A closed pattern like symmetry, however, does not simply stop; it concludes (see Smith 1968: 1–2). The intensifying pattern may run out of linguistic grammatical possibilities, but it can never become complete or closed, as a symmetrical pattern can. That is, the intensifying pattern inherently creates the expectation for something more. On the one hand, closure may occur as expectations for structure of the whole are finally met. On the other hand, closure itself creates in the listener/ reader a different expectation: the expectation of nothing more. Smith writes, The perception of poetic structure is a dynamic process: structural principles produce a state of expectation continuously modified by successive events. Expectation itself, however, is continuously maintained, and in general we expect the principles to continue operating as they have operated. Now, it is clear that a poem cannot continue indefinitely; at some point the state of expectation
33. See, however, Smith’s qualification regarding the temporal aspect of the observer’s experience of spatial art that allows the observer to experience it as both dynamic and whole (1968: 36). 34. Even though closure is experienced definitively at a point in time, closure can still be experienced to different degrees. I.e., closure may be experienced as particularly strong or relatively weak.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 189 ]
must be modified so that we are prepared not for continuation but for cessation. Closure, then, may be regarded as a modification of structure that makes stasis, or the absence of further continuation, the most probable succeeding event. Closure allows the reader to be satisfied by the failure of continuation or, put another way, it creates in the reader the expectation of nothing. (1968: 33–34)
In this way, even continuous patterns can be modified to effect closure of a whole poetic unit, as we will see. In her study of poetic closure, Smith is primarily concerned with endings of whole poems. Tsur extends her work on closure to include poem-internal closure, that is, closure of poetic passages (2008: 115–17). In biblical poetry, where lines emerge in the part-whole relationships of lines and line-groupings, closure potentially operates not just at the ends of poems or the ends of stanzas or passages, but also at the level of the line-grouping.35 Just as symmetry can operate at the level of a line-pair, or at the level of a larger grouping of lines, or at the level of an entire poem, closure can happen at any of these structural levels of a biblical poem. Closure at one level (experienced temporally) may or may not correspond with closure at another level. For example, although the symmetrical line-pair of Jonah 2:3 [ET 2:2] is closed at the end of Jonah 2:3 [ET 2:2], the poem as a whole is not. Furthermore, because of the many variables of language, even within the same level of part-whole structuring, closure may occur according to one aspect of language or patterning but not another. For example, a symmetrical line-pair may be closed with respect to its syntactic symmetrical patterning but open with respect to its clausal structure (2 Sam 1:22a–b, text 5.35). In this way, an A/A symmetrical line-pair can remain open (grammatically), until it is resolved as an A/A/B/B line-four (1:22a–d).36 The remainder of this section explores various strategies for achieving closure at different levels of structure in biblical poetry.37 The goal here is not to exhaustively categorize strategies for closure (some of which overlap) but to elucidate the contextual and non-formulaic nature of closure in biblical poetry, whose line-groupings and stanzas are relatively “free,” just as its poetic rhythms are. Closure must be experienced by the listener/reader in relation to the shapes and expectations that emerge as poetic structure is dynamically perceived.
35. Smith asks whether we can assume a universal psychology of closure: she does not know but assumes it anyway (1968: 32–33). I see no reason from biblical poetry, which is very different from the traditions she is working in, to challenge that assumption. A universal psychology of closure still leaves room for different styles and conventions (29). Cf. Meyer 1956: 128–29. 36. As another example, some semantic threads may be left open even while certain patterns are closed. See n42 in ch. 5 on the use of this strategy in Mic 3:9–12. 37. For an approach to closure from the framework of parallelism, see Greenstein 1983: 57–63, who discusses five ways parallelism can effect closure in a unit of verse. [ 190 ] Gestalt Principles
We have already explored many examples of symmetrical closure in chapter 5, a closure achieved through the completion of a patterned whole. Symmetrical wholes are also characterized by balance, a kind of stability. Even apart from symmetry, restored stability can be achieved in a figure by temporal movement from imbalance to balance, thus contributing to the closure and completion of a figure. As an example, recall Judges 5:6 (text 5.41): TEXT 6.6 bîmê šamgar ben-ʿănāt In-the-days-of Shamgar son-of~Anat,
6a
ן־ענָ ֙ת ֲ ימי ַׁש ְמ ַּג֤ר ֶּב ֵ֞ ִּב
bîmê yāʿēl in-the-days-of Jael,
6b
ימי יָ ֔ ֵעל ֣ ֵ ִּב
ḥādǝlû ʾŏrāḥôt ceased-did ways,
6c
ָח ְד ֖לּו ֳא ָר ֑חֹות
wǝhōlǝkê nǝtîbôt and-travelers-of paths
6d
וְ ה ְֹל ֵכ֣י נְ ִת ֔יבֹות
yēlǝkû ʾŏrāḥôt ʿăqalqallôt traveled ways twisting.38
6e
יֵ ְל ֕כּו ֳא ָר ֖חֹות ֲע ַק ְל ַק ּֽלֹות׃
The unit begins in 6a–b with a thwarted expectation for balance (due to the symmetrical expectations set up by 6a–b). The figure at this point is both incomplete (grammatically) and unstable (owing to the unexpected imbalance of the line-pair). Grammatical completion of the figure is achieved with 6e, because two independent clauses are expected (based on the symmetrical expectations set up by lines 6a–b). Furthermore, the figure also becomes stable as 6e ends, through restored balance of the whole figure (long/short/short/ short/long). In this way, even though the five-line figure thwarts symmetrical expectations, the initial expectation for balance is met as the figure concludes. The restoration of balance contributes to the experience of closure of the 5-line unit. Similarly, recall Micah 3:9 (text 5.25): TEXT 6.7 šimʿû-nāʾ zōʾt rāʾšê bêt yaʿăqōb Listen-to~ this, heads-of house-of Jacob,
9a
אׁשי ֵּב֣ית יַ ֲע ֔קֹב ֙ ֵ עּו־נ֣א ֗ז ֹאת ָר ָ ִׁש ְמ
ûqǝṣînê bêt yiśrāʾēl and-leaders-of house-of Israel,
9b
ּוק ִצ ֵינ֖י ֵּב֣ית יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֑אל ְ
38. I.e., “traveled (on) twisting ways.”
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 191 ]
hamătaʿăbîm mišpāṭ who-abhor justice
9c
ַ ֽה ֲמ ַת ֲע ִ ֣בים ִמ ְׁש ֔ ָּפט
wǝʾēt kol-hayǝšārâ yǝʿaqqēšû and-‹o.m.› everything~straight they-twist.
9d
ל־היְ ָׁש ָ ֖רה יְ ַע ֵ ּֽקׁשּו׃ ַ וְ ֵ ֥את ָּכ
The long-short-short-long patterning results in restored balance, or stability of the entire figure. In this way, the longer line 9d effects the closure of the four-line grouping. It is not simply the case that wholes effect closure, but closure (in this case, the restoration of balance) can also effect wholes (Smith 1968: 26). Thus, the four lines of v. 9 emerge as a distinct structural unit, not the six lines of vv. 9–10. We cannot assume, however, that figures with lines of different lengths/ weights are always experienced as unstable; it is the organization of the whole that sets up expectations for balance or imbalance and thus influences how such differences are experienced.39 Yet where three lines are thematically integrated or in some way grouped together through similarity, restored balance can contribute to closure of the line-triple, as in the long-short-long patterning of 2 Samuel 1:26a–c (discussed further as text 6.28):40 TEXT 6.8 ṣar-lî ʿālêkā ʾāḥî yǝhônātān 26a It-is-distress~to-me41 concerning-you, my- brother Jonathan.
חי יְ ֣הֹונָ ָ֔תן ֙ ִ ר־לי ָע ֗ ֶליָך ָא ֣ ִ ַצ
nāʿamtā lî mǝʾōd You-were-pleasant to-me exceedingly.
26b
אד ֹ ֑ נָ ַ ֥ע ְמ ָּת ִ ּ֖לי ְמ
niplǝʾatâ ʾahăbātǝkā lî mēʾahăbat nāšîm Wonderful-was your-love to-me, more- than-love-of women.
26c
נִ ְפ ְל ַ ֤א ָתה ַא ֲה ָ ֽב ְת ָ֙ך ֔ ִלי ֵמ ַא ֲה ַ ֖בת נָ ִ ֽׁשים׃
A final example of restored stability through resolved imbalance is found in Psalm 103:15–18: TEXT 6.9 ʾĕnôš keḥāṣîr yāmāyw 15a (As for) man, like-the-grass (are) his-days,
יָמיו ֑ ָ ֭ ֱאנֹוׁש ֶּכ ָח ִ ֣ציר
39. See, e.g., the imbalance of line-groupings in Ps 90:16–17, text 6.17. 40. For contrast, consider the line-triple of Ps 100:1–2 (text 5.31), in which three lines of equal length/weight are integrated: the figure becomes complete, but since the figure never becomes unstable, there is no clinch of restored stability. 41. I.e., “I am distressed . . .” [ 192 ] Gestalt Principles
kǝṣîṣ haśśādê kēn yāṣîṣ 15b like-a-blossom-of the-field, thus he-blooms.
ְּכ ִ ֥ציץ ַ֜ה ָּׂש ֶ ֗דה ֵּכ֣ן יָ ִ ֽציץ׃
kî rûaḥ ʿābǝrâ-bô wǝʾênennû When a-wind has-passed~over-it, then-it-is-not,
16a
ה־ּבֹו וְ ֵא ֶינּ֑נּו ֣ ִ ּ֤כי ֣ר ַּוח ָ ֽע ְב ָר
wǝlōʾ-yakkîrennû ʿôd mǝqômô and-not~recognizes-it still its-place.42
16b
קֹומֹו׃ ֽ ירּנּו ֣עֹוד ְמ ֖ ֶ וְ לֹא־יַ ִּכ
wǝḥesed yhwh mēʿôlām wǝʿad-ʿôlām ʿal-yǝrēʾāyw But-the-steadfast-love-of YHWH— from-everlasting and-to~everlasting upon~those-who-fear-him!
17a
ֹולם ָ ֭עֹול֣ם וְ ַעד־ע ָ הוה׀ ֵמ ָ ֙ ְוְ ֶ ֤ח ֶסד י ַעל־יְ ֵר ָ ֑איו
wǝṣidqātô libnê bānîm And-his-righteousness—to-children-of children,
17b
ְ ֜ו ִצ ְד ָק ֗תֹו ִל ְב ֵנ֥י ָב ִנֽים׃
lǝšōmǝrê bǝrîtô to-those-who-keep his-covenant,
18a
יתֹו ֑ ְלׁש ְֹמ ֵ ֥רי ְב ִר
ûlǝzōkǝrê piqqūdāyw laʿăśôtām 18b and-to-those-who-remember his-precepts to-do-them.
ׂשֹותם׃ ֽ ָ ּולז ְֹכ ֵ ֥רי ֜ ִפ ֻּק ָ ֗דיו ַל ֲע ְ
In Ps 103, up to v. 17, every pair of lines is balanced.43 Line 17a is set up as a clear contrast to v. 15a: the steadfast love of YHWH is unlike man in
42. I.e., “and its place no longer recognizes it.” 43. Two line-pairs in this psalm require comment with respect to balance. Lines 6a–b are syntactically symmetrical with ellipsis. The lines are not balanced simply through words/stresses (3:2) or through syllables (7:9). Perhaps balance can be heard based on the following shapes (indicated by spacing): (ʿōśê ṣǝdāqôt yhwh)| (ûmišpāṭîm) (lǝkol-ʿăšûqîm)| I.e., the first segments can be balanced by syllables (5:4), and the second segments can be balanced by words/stress (1:1). Lines 9a–b are precisely symmetrical, but the Masoretic phrasing (because of the maqqef) differs for the two lines, resulting in word/stress imbalance, such that the first line is shorter by both stresses (2:3) and also historical syllables (5:7): lōʾ-lāneṣaḥ yārîb wǝlōʾ lǝʿôlām yiṭṭôr The phrasing does not result in imbalance in the Masoretic reading tradition, however: while the Masoretic tradition decreases the weightiness of lōʾ-lāneṣaḥ with the maqqef (by treating it as one prosodic/stressed word), the tradition also reflects an increase in the weightiness of lāneṣaḥ (in comparison to the historical pronunciation) through segholization.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 193 ]
his transience, because it is mēʿôlām wǝʿad-ʿôlām, from everlasting to everlasting. This point is underscored by the decidedly long line of 17a, which (at 5 words/stresses and 15 syllables) prominently stands out among all the lines of the psalm.44 The shape of the words—the verbal artistry—lets us feel the message: a profound hopefulness due to YHWH’s unfathomable ḥesed (“steadfast love”), because it is completely unlike humanity’s ephemerality (which is something we can fathom because we experience it). The extremely heavy line also introduces imbalance into the poem: line 17a is paired with a lighter line (17b), producing a sharply imbalanced line-pair. This imbalance is unexpected not simply because of the partial symmetry of the line-pair but because balanced line-pairs have been the continual norm in the previous sixteen line-pairs of the poem. Thus, the instability of 17a–b is felt in relation to the poem thus far, not simply in relation to the current line-pair.45 Yet, as we will see, it is the local line-grouping (the four-line figure of 17a–18b) by which the stability of the larger poem is restored. The following line-pair (18a–b) is a syntactic continuation of 17a–b, and it is arranged symmetrically—except for the unexpected imbalance (symmetrically speaking) caused by the final word of 18b. The line-pair of 18a–b, then, like 17a–b, thwarts an expectation for balance. The long-short imbalance of 17a– b is followed by a short-long imbalance in 18a–b. As a result, the instability introduced by 17a–b is restored to stability by the reverse imbalance of 18a– b, as 17a–18b becomes a complete four-line figure. The return to stability is not just local to the figure but occurs as a return to stability in the larger context of the poem. Thus, the closure of the four-line figure (17a–18b) corresponds with closure at a higher level in the poem. The restored stability contributes to the closure of the larger poetic unit; the following verse, 19, begins a new section of the psalm. The restoration of stability in Psalm 103:18 can also be considered a subtype of a broader stabilizing strategy, the return to a norm after a deviation (Smith 1968: 65). The following two examples come from the first chapter of Micah.46 The first is the four-line grouping that opens the book’s poetry, Mic 1:2a–d.
44. Verse 17 should not be regarded as three lines (breaking 17a into two for the sake of more regularity in length), because the whole is organized with two integrated genuine parts, not three. As 17b begins (wǝṣidqātô), it can be structured in relation to wǝḥesed yhwh with partial symmetry. According to the editors of BHS, the unexpected variance in rhythmic regularity of 17a should be emended away. 45. The tenor of the lines is incomparability, not instability associated with uncertainty. The experience of the unexpected long line precedes the experience of imbalance of the line-pair. 46. Cf. the rhythmic patterning of Judg 5:12 (text 5.29); see also text 6.2, Exod 15:6– 10, in which the restored rhythm corresponds with the restored movement of the water and brings closure to the section. [ 194 ] Gestalt Principles
TEXT 6.10 šimʿû ʿammîm kullām Listen, peoples, all-of-them!47
2a
עּו ַע ִ ּ֣מים ֻּכ ֔ ָּלם ֙ ִׁש ְמ
haqšîbî ʾereṣ ûmǝlōʾāh Pay-attention, earth and-its-fullness!
2b
ֹלאּה ֑ ָ ּומ ְ ַה ְק ִ ׁ֖ש ִיבי ֶ ֣א ֶרץ
wîhî ʾădōnāy yhwh bākem lǝʿēd And-let-be the-Lord YHWH against-you as-a-witness,
2c
הו֤ה ָּב ֶכ ֙ם ְל ֔ ֵעד ִ ְיהי֩ ֲאד ֹנָ֙ י י ִ ִו
ʾădōnāy mēhêkal qodšô [ ] the-Lord [ ], from-temple-of his-holiness.
2d
יכל ָק ְד ֽׁשֹו׃ ֥ ַ ֲאד ָֹנ֖י ֵמ ֵה
This is a 4-line figure, corresponding with the Masoretic verse. The second line- pair is conjoined to the first and semantically connected to it. (Another possible translation of 2c is, “that the Lord YHWH may be against you. . . .”) The figure resembles the strongly symmetrical A/A/B/B line-groupings I have already discussed (section 5.7) but with significant differences. The first line-pair is only partially symmetrical, and while the second line-pair has syntactic symmetry, the surface symmetry is quite fragmented, and the line-pair is imbalanced. That is, both the first and second line-pairs are only weakly symmetrical. But the figure as a whole is not deficient or incomplete, because the expectation for strong symmetry is not set up. (The stronger the symmetry of the first line-pair in a syntactically integrated A/A/B/B pattern, the stronger the expectation for symmetry in the second line-pair to complete the figure.) In this figure, there is no expectation of symmetry of the whole to set up a click of completion in the final line. Closure of the four-line figure comes in another way, through the return in the final line to the patterning of the first two lines. Notice the prosodic shapes of the lines, due to the vocatives (2a, 2b) and elided words (2d), which are reflected in the Masoretic prosodic phrases: 2a (šimʿû) (ʿammîm kullām)| 2b (haqšîbî) (ʾereṣ ûmǝlōʾāh)| 2c (wîhî ʾădōnāy yhwh bākem) (lǝʿēd)| 2d (ʾădōnāy) (mēhêkal qodšô)| Not only is the third line significantly longer/weightier than the other three lines, it follows a different phrase patterning.48 It is the establishment of a rhythm (2a–b), the departure from it (2c), and the return to it (2d) that provides
47. I.e., “all of you.” 48. The editors of BHS find the difference in length problematic and suggest a deletion of ʾădōnāy yhwh for the sake of meter.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 195 ]
the closure of the figure by means of the fourth line.49 The figure lacks the equilibrium of a symmetrical four-line figure, but it still comes to completion. A second example of closure through a stabilizing return to a norm is Micah 1:6a–7e. TEXT 6.11 wǝśamtî šōmǝrôn lǝʿî haśśādê And-I-will-make Samaria into-a-ruin-of the-field,
6a
וְ ַׂש ְמ ִ ּ֥תי ׁש ְֹמ ֛רֹון ְל ִ ֥עי ַה ָּׂש ֶ ֖דה
lǝmaṭṭāʿê kārem into-plantings-of a-vineyard.
6b
ְל ַמ ָ ּ֣ט ֵעי ָ ֑כ ֶרם
wǝhiggartî laggay ʾăbānêhā And-I-will-spill to-the-valley her-stones,
6c
יה ָ וְ ִהּגַ ְר ִ ּ֤תי ַלּגַ ֙י ֲא ָב ֶ֔נ
wîsōdêhā ʾăgallê and-her-foundations I-will-lay-bare.
6d
יה ֲאגַ ֶ ּֽלה׃ ָ וִ יס ֶ ֹ֖ד
wǝkol-pǝsîlêhā yukkattû And-all~her-images will-be-crushed,
7a
֣יה יֻ ַּ֗כּתּו ָ ל־ּפ ִס ֶיל ְ וְ ָכ
wǝkol-ʾetnannêhā yiśśārǝpû bāʾēš 7b and-all~her-wages will-be-burned in-the-fire,
יה יִ ָּׂש ְר ֣פּו ָב ֵ֔אׁש ָ֙ ֶ֙ל־א ְתנַ ּנ ֶ וְ ָכ
wǝkol-ʿăṣabbêhā ʾāśîm šǝmāmâ and-all~her-idols I-will-make desolation—
7c
יה ָא ִ ׂ֣שים ְׁש ָמ ָ ֑מה ָ ל־ע ַצ ֶ ּ֖ב ֲ וְ ָכ
kî mēʾetnan zônâ qibbāṣâ for from-wage-of harlot she-gathered
7d
֠ ִּכי ֵמ ֶא ְת ַנ�֤ן זֹונָ ֙ה ִק ָּ֔ב ָצה
wǝʿad-ʾetnan zônâ yāšûbû and-to~wage-of harlot they-will-return.
7e
זֹונ֖ה יָ ֽׁשּובּו׃ ָ ד־א ְת ַנ�֥ן ֶ וְ ַע
Lines 6a–7c pronounce Samaria’s judgment, and lines 7d–e explain the appropriateness of it. All the poetic lines leading up to lines 7a–c (vv. 2–6) are arranged in pairs (with some organized in larger groupings of two line-pairs). Lines 7a–c break this pattern with a line-triple, and it is the return to a line- pair that brings closure to this section. But this simple description does not do justice to the stabilizing strategies of this passage’s closure. The two line-pairs 49. Cf. the phrasing of Deut 32:22 (text 4.15). The Masoretic reading tradition provides these prosodic shapes: 22a (kî-ʾēš) (qādǝḥâ bǝʾappî)| 22b (wattîqad) (ʿad-šǝʾôl taḥtît)| 22c (wattōʾkal ʾereṣ) (wîbulāh)| 22d (wattǝlahēṭ) (môsǝdê hārîm)| The performance of the text—the prosodic shapes that are brought out in reading— potentially strengthens the whole of the four-line figure and contributes to the perceived closure at the end. [ 196 ] Gestalt Principles
of v. 6 are arranged in a heavy-light (long-short) line pattern. The line-triple of 7a–c contrasts sharply with these diminishing line-pairs, having instead a pattern that intensifies each successive line (each line gets phonetically or semantically “heavier” or both). The contrast of 7a–c with the preceding lines heightens the expanding movement of the line-triple (an open pattern), and stability is regained as the open pattern in 7a–c abruptly stops and the text lands on a strongly symmetrical line-pair.50 The closure provided by 7d–e is all the more keenly felt because of the absence of closure in the previous figure (7a–c). (Tsur observes that the weakening of the closure of the unit before results in stronger closure of the whole [2008: 121].) Another strategy of closure in poetry is return to a starting place.51 As an analogy we can consider the visual-spatial concept of closure in a temporally drawn spatial figure. If someone is drawing a shape like a circle or a star (continuously, without lifting the pencil), the shape becomes closed and thus complete at a certain point: when the pencil returns to where it started. An envelope structure or framing of a poem or stanza (often called inclusio in biblical studies) resembles a return to a starting place, even though actual return is not possible in verbal temporal contexts: closure is achieved through repetition or near repetition of the opening line(s) (Smith 1968: 27).52 In and of itself, however, repetition does not signal return. As we saw in David’s lament (section 5.8), specifically, 2 Samuel 1:25, it is the organization of the whole that determines whether repetition of the opening of a poem will be heard as a return or a development.53 This can be further demonstrated by Psalm 103, a poem that opens and closes with bārăkî napšî ʾet-yhwh (“Bless, O my soul, YHWH!”). The poem expounds on the dealings of YHWH with the psalmist (vv. 1–5) and with his people (vv. 6–18), eventually “traveling” back to the beginning, notably through the bārăkû yhwh (“Bless YHWH!”) lines of 103:20–22, set in the context of YHWH’s cosmic dominion (19–22).54 Here are the opening and closing lines of the psalm: 50. A strongly symmetrical line-pair in a context of all symmetrical line-pairs is not likely to bring strong closure. Here, it is the instability or movement created by various shapes of the text, unfolding temporally, that allows the symmetrical line-pair to be experienced as restored stability. 51. On the principle of return in music, see Meyer 1956: 151. For poetry, see Smith 1968: 27, 67 and Tsur 2008: 123. 52. E.g., Ps 118 repeats the first line-pair at the end of the psalm. Psalm 103 repeats the first line (which is also the third line of the poem) as the final line of the psalm. Psalms 146–50 begin and end with the unintegrated, short exclamation halǝlû-yāh (“Praise Yah!”). 53. “One must recognize . . . that ‘repetition’ is not always the same phenomenon; there are several ways in which it can function in poetry, and each of them affects closure differently” (Smith 1968: 39). 54. The overall structure of the psalm is balanced by number of lines, with ten lines in the first section, ten lines in the final section, and twenty-six lines in the longer central section.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 197 ]
TEXT 6.12 bārăkî napšî ʾet-yhwh Bless, O-my-soul, ‹o.m.›~YHWH,
1a
הו֑ה ָ ְָּב ֲר ִ ֣כי ַ ֭נ ְפ ִׁשי ֶאת־י
wǝkol-qǝrābay ʾet-šēm qodšô and-all~my-inward-parts, ‹o.m.›~the-name-of his-holiness.
1b
ת־ׁשם ָק ְד ֽׁשֹו׃ ֥ ֵ ל־ק ָר ַ֗בי ֶא ְ֜ וְ ָכ
bārăkî napšî ʾet-yhwh Bless, O-my-soul, ‹o.m.›~YHWH,
2a
הו֑ה ָ ְָּב ֲר ִ ֣כי ַ ֭נ ְפ ִׁשי ֶאת־י
wǝʾal-tiškǝḥî kol-gǝmûlāyw and-do-not~forget all~his-dealings,
2b
מּוליו׃ ֽ ָ ְל־ּת ְׁש ְּכ ִ֗חי ָּכל־ּג ִ֜ וְ ַא
hassōlēaḥ lǝkol-ʿăwōnēkî he-who-pardons all~your-iniquity,
3a
ל־ע ֵֹונ ִ֑כי ֲ ַהּס ֵ ֹ֥ל ַח ְל ָכ
hārōpēʾ lǝkol-taḥălūʾāyǝkî he-who-heals all~your-diseases;
3b
ל־ּת ֲח ֻל ָ ֽאיְ ִכי׃ ַ ָ֜הר ֗ ֵֹפא ְל ָכ
... yhwh baššāmayim hēkîn kisʾô YHWH in-the-heavens has-established his-throne,
... 19a
... ֽהוה ַ ּ֭ב ָּׁש ַמיִם ֵה ִ ֣כין ִּכ ְס ֑אֹו ֗ ָ ְי
ûmalkûtô bakkōl māšālâ and-his-royal-dominion over-all rules.
19b
כּותֹו ַּב ּ֥כֹל ָמ ָ ֽׁש ָלה׃ ֗ ּו֜ ַמ ְל
bārăkû yhwh malʾākāyw Bless YHWH, (you)-his-angels,
20a
הוה ַמ ְל ָ֫א ָ ֥כיו ֗ ָ ְָּב ֲר ֥כּו י
gibbōrê kōaḥ ʿōśê dǝbārô mighty-ones-of strength who-do his-word,
20b
ּגִ ּ֣בֹ ֵרי ֭כֹ ַח ע ֵ ֹׂ֣שי ְד ָב ֑רֹו
lišmōaʿ bǝqôl dǝbārô obeying the-voice-of his-word.
20c
מ ַע ְּב ֣קֹול ְּד ָב ֽרֹו׃ ֹ ֗ ֜ ִל ְׁש
bārăkû yhwh kol-ṣǝbāʾāyw Bless YHWH, all~his-hosts,
21a
ל־צ ָב ָ ֑איו ְ ָּב ֲר ֣כּו ְי֭הוָ ה ָּכ
mǝšārǝtāyw ʿōśê rǝṣônô his-servants who-do his-will.
21b
ְ֜מ ָׁש ְר ָ֗תיו ע ֵ ֹׂ֥שי ְרצֹונֽ ֹו׃
bārăkû yhwh kol-maʿăśāyw Bless YHWH, all~his-works,
22a
ל־מ ֲע ָׂ֗שיו ַ הוה׀ ָ ּֽכ ָ ֙ ְָּב ֲר ֤כּו י
bǝkol-mǝqōmôt memšaltô in-all~places-of his-rule;
22b
ל־מק ֹ֥מֹות ֶמ ְמ ַׁש ְל ּ֑תֹו ְ ְּב ָכ
bārăkî napšî ʾet-yhwh Bless, O-my-soul, ‹o.m.›~YHWH!
22c
הוה׃ ֽ ָ ְָּב ֲר ִ ֥כי ַ֜נ ְפ ִׁ֗שי ֶאת־י
When the first line of the poem is repeated at the end, the repetition is not simply a formal end-marker; it actually effects the perceptual closure, as we [ 198 ] Gestalt Principles
shall see.55 Smith describes envelope structures in this way: “By returning to the original point of departure, it suggests that there is no place else to go and, consequently, that the journey has been completed” (1968: 67). That is, the repetition in some way contributes to the expectation for nothing more. As Ps 103 begins, the initial line of the poem is repeated in the third line: its prominence is thus reinforced in listener/reader memory, increasing the likelihood of the recognition of the line-final return. The return is not abrupt but is rather the final point of the journey back to the beginning. Following the closure of the second section in v. 18 (text 6.9), v. 19 takes the poem in a new direction, proclaiming YHWH’s cosmic dominion. Verse 20, however, initiates a return to the poem’s beginning, with the first of three (plural) imperatives: bārăkû yhwh (“Bless YHWH!” in 20a, 21a, and 22a). In vv. 20 and 21, the psalmist exhorts the angels and heavenly hosts, the “doers” of YHWH’s word/will (ʿōśê dǝbārô/rǝṣônô) to bless YHWH. In 22a, the psalmist exhorts the ones (or things) who are “done/made” by YHWH (from the same verbal root as ʿōśê, “doers”: maʿăśāyw, “his works”) to bless YHWH. The line-triple in v. 20 seems oddly irregular to modern scholars, because it is the only line- triple in the psalm besides the concluding verse, 22.56 It is not odd, though, if we are not expecting the regularity of meter: it contributes to how the poem unfolds and is brought to closure. The line-triple of v. 20 lingers on the angels’ obedience to YHWH’s word in 20c. The line-pair of v. 21 is quite similar to 20a–b, but it is not followed by a third similar line. That is, vv. 20–21 resist emerging as a symmetrical whole: the A/B/C//A/B pattern is not closed by another “C” line. Instead, the poem moves into another “bless YHWH . . .” line (22a); lines 20a–21b (in spite of their similarities) remain an open shape, not becoming a closed pattern. Subsequently, line 22a is similar to 20a and 21a, but the addressee is qualitatively different—this is not simply another A- line. The shape continues to develop. Line 22b is quite unlike 20b and 21b, yet line 22b hearkens back to 19b and is itself a (poem-internal) return. With the unfolding of 22b, both the divine beings (the “doers” of YHWH’s will) and the creatures (the “works” of YHWH)—in all the places of his rule (19b, 22b)—are blessing YHWH. The psalmist has closed our expectation for more within this unit through a return to the unit’s beginning: What else need be said about YHWH’s cosmic rule? The poem, however, is not yet closed as a whole. With the final line (22c, which is integrated in the line-triple of 22), the whole psalm is tied together. Line 22c completes the return to the beginning with full repetition of line 1a. The psalmist is blessing YHWH as one of his “works.” This final 55. Watson 2005: 284, identifies the function of the envelope figure as delimitation of a structural unit. This form-function approach to patterning does not address the role of the organization of the whole and thus is unable to account for how the repetition actually contributes to perceived closure. 56. The layout of BHS reinforces this perceived oddness. The editors of BHS suggest the third line is a gloss, based on its absence in the Syriac translation.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 199 ]
line (22c) does not simply indicate that the psalm is done; it effects the closure of the whole poem. That is, the final line is the completion of our journey with the psalmist. There is no place else to go; we need not expect anything more. Another strategy of closure that results in “the expectation of nothing” occurs in the context of continuation. As we have seen, the principle of continuation allows the mind to perpetuate patterns but brings with it, in a finite and artful poem, the expectation that the pattern will not continue forever. Change, or modification of a pattern, along with other contextual factors, can make the absence of continuation “the most probable succeeding event” (Smith 1968: 34). “One of the most effective ways to indicate the conclusion of a poem generated by an indefinitely extensible principle is simply to modify that principle at the end of the poem. It then becomes a series running AAA . . . x, where the occurrence of x in connection with other (thematic and nonstructural) elements suggesting conclusion will be much more effective for closure than one more A” (53). In biblical poetry, terminal modification of patterns of many kinds contributes to the closure of poems and subunits of poems, as the following examples demonstrate. In Exodus 15:2–3, the stanza concludes with a change from balance to imbalance in the final line-pair. A relatively short or light line brings closure to the stanza. TEXT 6.13 ʿozzî wǝzimrāt yāh My-strength and-song (is) Yah,
2a
ָע ִּז֤י וְ זִ ְמ ָר ֙ת ָ֔יּה
wayǝhî-lî lîšûʿâ and-he-has-become~for-me for-salvation.57
2b
יׁשּועה ֑ ָ י־לי ִ ֽל ֖ ִ ַו�ֽיְ ִה
zê ʾēlî wǝʾanwēhû This (is) my-God, and-I-will-glorify-him,
2c
ֶז֤ה ֵא ִ ֙לי וְ ַאנְ ֵ ֔והּו
ʾĕlōhê ʾābî waʾărōmǝmenhû [ ] the-God-of my-father, and-I-will-exalt-him.
2d
ֹלהי ָא ִ ֖בי וַ ֲאר ְֹמ ֶ ֽמנְ הּו׃ ֥ ֵ ֱא
yhwh ʾîš milḥāmâ YHWH (is) a-man-of war.58
3a
הו֖ה ִ ֣איׁש ִמ ְל ָח ָ ֑מה ָ ְי
yhwh šǝmô YHWH (is) his-name.
3b
הו֖ה ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ָ ְי
Similarly, in Job 3:26, a sharply imbalanced line-pair, following a number of line-pairs that can be leveled for balance, ends Job’s initial speech. It is unnecessary to lineate this verse as a balanced line-pair by reading against the
57. I.e., “and he has become my salvation.” 58. I.e., “YHWH is a warrior.” [ 200 ] Gestalt Principles
cohesive shape of similarity (morphological/grammatical/semantic) within line 26a, as well as against the prosodic shapes of the MT (as BHS does). The imbalance—due to both an especially heavy line (26a) and an especially light line (26b)—provides change that contributes to the closure of the speech. Here are the final four lines (3:25–26): TEXT 6.14 kî paḥad pāḥadtî wayyeʾĕtāyēnî 25a Indeed a-dread I-dread, and-it-comes-upon me,
ִ ּ֤כי ַ ֣פ ַחד ָ ּ֭פ ַח ְד ִּתי וַ ּיֶ ֱא ָתֵי֑נִ י
waʾăšer yāgōrtî yābōʾ lî and-that-which I-am-afraid-of comes to-me.
25b
וַ ֲא ֶ ׁ֥שר ָ֜י ֗ג ֹ ְר ִּתי ָי֣בֹא ִ ֽלי׃
lōʾ šālawtî wǝlōʾ šāqaṭtî wǝlōʾ-nāḥtî Not am-I-at-ease, and-not am-I-quiet, and-not~do-I-rest,
26a
�ָק ְט ִּתי ֥ ַ ֤ל ֹא ָׁש ַ ֙לוְ ִּתי׀ וְ ֖ל ֹא ׁש א־נ ְח ִּתי ָ֗ ֹ ְ ֽול
wayyābōʾ rōgez and-comes turmoil!
26b
וַ ָּי֥בֹא ֽר ֹגֶ ז׃
In the stanza of Judges 5:3 (discussed as text 6.1), each line-pair is perfectly balanced (with two three-syllable words per line), and the lines are short. Closure comes not through imbalance but through a change in grammatical construction. TEXT 6.15 šimʿû mǝlākîm Hear, kings!
3a
ִׁש ְמ ֣עּו ְמ ָל ִ֔כים
haʾăzînû rōzǝnîm Give-ear, rulers!
3b
ַה ֲא ִז֖ינּו ֽר ֹזְ ִנ֑ים
ʾānōkî layhwh I [ ] to-YHWH,
3c
ָ ֽאנ ִֹ֗כי ַ ֽליהוָ ֙ה
ʾānōkî ʾāšîrâ I will-sing.
3d
ָאנ ִ ֹ֣כי ָא ִׁ֔ש ָירה
ʾăzammēr layhwh I-will-make-melody to-YHWH,
3e
יהו֖ה ָ ֲאזַ ֵּ֕מר ַ ֽל
ʾĕlōhê yiśrāʾēl the-God-of Israel.
3f
ֹלהי יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֽאל׃ ֥ ֵ ֱא
Each of the first five lines (3a–e) is a clause. Change comes in line 3f: it is not a clause but a phrase, which stands in apposition to yhwh (YHWH) at the end of 3e. It ends the listener/reader expectation for another line-pair of two-word clauses and thus contributes to the closure of the stanza.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 201 ]
Psalm 150 is a short psalm characterized by repetition, but it is internally shaped by slight changes of patterning that contribute to the closure of subunits. TEXT 6.16 halǝlû yāh Praise Yah!
1a
ַ ֥ה ְללּו יָ֙ ּה׀
halǝlû-ʾēl bǝqodšô Praise~God in-his-holiness!
1b
לּו־אל ְּב ָק ְד ׁ֑שֹו ֥ ֵ ַ ֽה ְל
halǝlûhû birqîaʿ ʿuzzô Praise-him in-the-firmament-of his-strength!
1c
ַֽ֜ה ְל ֗לּוהּו ִּב �ר ִ ְ֥ק ַיע ֻעּזֽ ֹו׃
halǝlûhû bigbûrōtāyw Praise-him for-his-mighty-deeds!
2a
ַ ֽה ְל ֥לּוהּו ִבגְ בּור ָ ֹ֑תיו
halǝlûhû kǝrōb gudlô Praise-him according-to-the-abundance-of his-greatness!
2b
ַֽ֜ה ְל ֗לּוהּו ְּכ ֣ר ֹב ּגֻ ְד ֽלֹו׃
halǝlûhû bǝtēqaʿ šôpār Praise-him with-blast-of shofar!
3a
ׁשֹופר ֑ ָ ַֽ ֭ה ְללּוהּו ְּב ֵ ֣ת ַקע
halǝlûhû bǝnēbel wǝkinnôr Praise-him with-harp and-lyre!
3b
ַֽ֜ה ְל ֗לּוהּו ְּב ֵנ ֶ֣בל וְ ִכּנֽ ֹור׃
halǝlûhû bǝtōp ûmāḥôl Praise-him with-tambourine and-dancing!
4a
ּומ ֑חֹול ָ תף ֹ ֣ ַֽ ֭ה ְללּוהּו ְב
halǝlûhû bǝminnîm wǝʿûgāb Praise-him with-strings and-flute!
4b
עּוגב׃ ֽ ָ ְַֽ֜ה ְל ֗לּוהּו ְּב ִמ ִּנ֥ים ו
halǝlûhû bǝṣilṣǝlê-šāmaʿ Praise-him with-cymbals-of~sound!
5a
י־ׁש ַמע ֑ ָ ַ ֽה ְל ֥לּוהּו ְב ִצ ְל ְצ ֵל
halǝlûhû bǝṣilṣǝlê tǝrûʿâ Praise-him with-cymbals-of clanging!
5b
רּועה׃ ֽ ָ ַֽ֜ה ְל ֗לּוהּו ְ ּֽב ִצ ְל ְצ ֵ ֥לי ְת
kōl hannǝšāmâ tǝhallēl yāh Everything-of the-breath let-praise Yah!59
6a
ּ֣כֹל ַ ֭הּנְ ָׁש ָמה ְּת ַה ֵ ּ֥לל ָ֗יּה
halǝlû-yāh Praise~Yah!
6b
לּו־יּֽה׃ ָ ַ ֽה ְל
The psalm is framed with an envelope structure of the unintegrated short line halǝlû yāh, “Praise Yah!” (1a, 6b). The line-initial patterning of halǝlûhû 59. I.e., “Let every living being praise Yah!” [ 202 ] Gestalt Principles
b- (“praise him in/for/with”) dominates the two main sections of the poem, 1b–2b and 3a–5b. (Line 1b initiates the patterning with halǝlû-ʾēl bǝ-, “praise God with....”) Yet in spite of the repetitive line-initial similarity, the two sections are distinctly shaped. In the two line-pairs of 1b–2b, the lines are subtly patterned A/B/A/B with regard to syntax (but not with regard to semantics).60 The line-initial repetition gives a sense of continuation to the patterning of the four lines as a whole.61 When the pattern changes slightly in 2b with the shift from the preposition b- (“in/for/with”) to k- (“according to”), the expectation for continuation weakens, providing slight closure to the stanza.62 But the line-initial patterning (halǝlûhû b-) is not finished: it resumes in 3a and continues with the new theme of worship with instruments. In this new stanza (3a–5b), the subtle patterning of the lines with regard to syntax is C/D/D/D/C/C.63 Notice that line-pairs do not emerge as basic line-groupings in 3a–5b.64 Rather, the lines emerge as parts of the whole stanza. Even 5a–b does not emerge as a line-pair, as the psalm unfolds temporally, because there is no closure of 3a–4b: C/D/D/D is not a closed pattern. But lines 5a–b do bring closure to the stanza, in two ways. First, the repetition of ṣilṣǝlê (“cymbals”) in 5b— the only repeated instrument—affects expectation. In a stanza of ongoing non-grouped lines, propelled by line-initial repetition, the change (expansion) of the line-initial repetition in 5b (to halǝlûhû bǝṣilṣǝlê, “praise him with cymbals”) stops the continuous movement through the various scenarios of instruments/worship, ending the expectation for more instruments. Second, lines 5a–b are a kind of return to 3a. This return is through subtle syntactic patterning (a return to pattern C in 5a), but even more, there is a semantic return in 5b. The word translated “clanging” in 5b, tǝrûʿâ, refers to a loud noise, usually a shout or blast, that signals something (like war or festival or jubilation). When used of an instrument, it typically refers to the shofar (horn) blast. The most similar phrase in the psalm to tēqaʿ šôpār (“blast of shofar”) in 3a, which begins the stanza, is ṣilṣǝlê tǝrûʿâ (“cymbals of clanging”) in 5b, which ends the stanza. Although the cymbals of 5a might be functioning in musical performance (as in 2 Sam 6:5), the cymbals described in 5b are described with a signaling
60. The A lines have prepositional phrases with one noun; the B lines have prepositional phrases with construct phrases. 61. The overall shape of the four-line whole is a shape of continuation, not symmetry: the second B line does not provide a symmetrical click of completion to the four lines. 62. The preposition b-could be used interchangeably with k-for the same meaning in 2b (as evidenced by a few manuscripts, see BHS). 63. The C lines have prepositional phrases with construct phrases; the D lines have prepositional phrases with conjoined nouns. 64. The Masoretic verses represent the utterances of prosodic phonology, not poetic line structure.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 203 ]
function, like the shofar.65 In this twofold way—through an expansion of repetition (a change) that stops momentum and through return—line 5b closes the second stanza. The psalm, however, is not yet concluded. The unintegrated line 6a, by means of change from the line-initial halǝlû (“praise!”) pattern, stops the expectation for continuity of the pattern that has propelled the entire psalm forward. The psalm could conceivably start a new section here, but it does not. The final unintegrated line (6b) is a clear return to the beginning, and it effects the closure of the psalm as a whole. Repetition serves a great variety of contextual functions. At the end of Psalm 90, as in Psalm 150:5b, repetition contributes to the expectation of nothing more. These are the final lines, Ps 90:16–17: TEXT 6.17 yērāʾê ʾel-ʿăbādêkā poʿŏlekā Let-appear to~your-servants your-activity,
16a
ל־ע ָב ֶ ֣דיָך ָפ ֳע ֶלָ֑ך ֲ יֵ ָר ֶ ֣אה ֶא
wahădārǝkā ʿal-bǝnêhem and-your-glory upon~their-sons [ ].
16b
יהם׃ ֽ ֶ ֵל־ּבנ ְ ַ ֜ו ֲה ָד ְר ָ֗ך ַע
wîhî nōʿam ʾădōnāy ʾĕlōhênû ʿālênû And-let-be the-favor-of the-Lord our-God upon-us,
17a
ֹלהינּו ֫ ָע ֵ ֥לינּו ֵ֗ יהי׀ ֹ֤נ ַעם ֲאד ָֹנ֥י ֱא ֤ ִ ִו
ûmaʿăśê yādênû kônǝnâ ʿālênû and-the-work-of our-hands establish upon-us,
17b
ׂשה ָי ֵ֭דינּו ּכֹונְ ָנ֥ה ָע ֵל֑ינּו ֣ ֵ ּומ ֲע ַ
ûmaʿăśê yādênû kônǝnēhû and-the-work-of our-hands, establish it.
17c
ּוֽ ַמ ֲע ֵ ׂ֥שה ָ֜י ֵ ֗דינּו ּכֹונְ ֵנֽהּו׃
The repetition of a final line of a poem is a closure-creating convention we are familiar with from Western ballads and folk songs, but it also occurs in sophisticated Western poetry “with far less simplicity and directness” (Smith 1968: 30–31). Line-final iteration is more complex in the versification system of biblical poetry, since exact repetition of a line within a line-grouping would tend to produce a static symmetrical line-pair that would likely stand apart as an unintegrated figure. Notice that the final line of Ps 90, line 17c, is not simply repetition of 17b; lines 17a–c are an integrated line-triple with decreasing heaviness in each line. Strategies for closure are typically integrated with thematic devices or thematic development (Smith 1968: 61–63, 96–150, 172–86). We saw thematic 65. Cf. Jones 1986: 111, who translates 5b with “cymbals of acclamation,” according to a cultic function rather than a musical description. [ 204 ] Gestalt Principles
development, for example, in the return within Psalm 103 (text 6.12), the textual journey back to the beginning of the poem. Another example is from Psalm 6, in which the psalmist prays in the midst of his distress caused by illness and adversaries. Early in the prayer he asks, “How long?” (v. 3). The prayer ends not just with a description of YHWH hearing and the enemies being ashamed (i.e., the psalmist’s deliverance) but with the word rāgaʿ “abruptly” (an adverbial usage of a noun meaning “[in a] moment”) in 6:11 [ET 6:10]. TEXT 6.18 yēbōšû wǝyibbāhălû mǝʾōd kol-ʾōyǝbāy Will-be-ashamed and-will-be-terrified exceedingly all~my-enemies;
11a
ֹיְבי ֑ ָ יֵ ֤בֹׁשּו׀ וְ ָיִּב ֲה ֣לּו ְ ֭מאֹד ָּכל־א
yāšūbû yēbōšû rāgaʿ they-will-turn-back, they-will-be-ashamed abruptly.
11b
ָ֜י ֻׁ֗שבּו יֵ ֥בֹׁשּו ָ ֽרגַ ע׃
The final word strengthens the closure of the psalm by answering the overarching question of the prayer. One important specific thematic strategy for strengthening closure is through closural allusion. These allusions are words or phrases that “signify termination or stability” (Smith 1968: 172).66 Thus, in Psalm 90 (text 6.17), a prayer emphasizing human frailty and transience, the poem ends on the word kônǝnēhû (“establish it”), a plea for God to “establish the work of our hands.” The final word signifies stability, strengthening the closure of the psalm. We have seen this thematic device in the closure of the Jael and Sisera stanza, Judges 5:23–27 (text 5.11), which ends with the word šādûd (“destroyed”), indicating finality: TEXT 6.19 bên raglêhā kāraʿ nāpal šākāb Between her-feet, he-bowed, he-fell, he-lay.
27a
יה ָּכ ַ ֥רע נָ ַ ֖פל ָׁש ָ ֑כב ָ ֵּב֣ין ַרגְ ֔ ֶל
bên raglêhā kāraʿ nāpāl Between her-feet, he-bowed, he-fell—
27b
יה ָּכ ַ ֣רע נָ ֔ ָפל ָ֙ ֵּב֤ין ַרגְ ֶ ֙ל
baʾăšer kāraʿ šām nāpal šādûd where he-bowed—there, he-fell destroyed.
27c
ׁשר ָּכ ַ ֔רע ָ ׁ֖שם נָ ַ ֥פל ָׁש ֽדּוד׃ ֣ ֶ ַּב ֲא
66. This is different from the example of Ps 6. In Ps 6, the psalmist’s situation is resolved and becomes stable, but the final word, rāgaʿ (“abruptly”), does not (lexically) signify stability. Smith gives the following examples of closural allusion in English: “last,” “finished,” “end,” “rest,” “peace,” and “no more” (1968: 172).
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 205 ]
Two more examples occur in psalms we have partially analyzed. Psalm 1 ends with the word tōʾbēd (“perish”): TEXT 6.20 kî-yôdēaʿ yhwh derek ṣaddîqîm For~knows YHWH way-of righteous-ones,
6a
�יקים ֑ ִ י־יֹוד ַע ְי֭הוָ ה ֶ ּ֣ד ֶרְך ַצ ִּד ֣ ֵ ִ ּֽכ
wǝderek rǝšāʿîm tōʾbēd and-way-of wicked-ones will-perish.
6b
אבד׃ ֽ ֵ ֹ וְ ֶ ֖ד ֶרְך ְר ָׁש ִ ֣עים ּת
Psalm 100 ends with the word ʾĕmûnātô (“his faithfulness/steadfastness”): TEXT 6.21 lǝʿôlām ḥasdô Forever (is) his-loyal-love,
5b
עֹולם ַח ְסּדֹו ָ ְל
wǝʿad-dōr wādōr ʾĕmûnātô 5c and-to~generation and-generation his-steadfastness.
וְ ַעד־ּד ֹר וָ ד ֹר ֱאמּונָ תֹו׃
These closural allusions, in combination with other textual elements, strengthen the closure of the final word or line of these poems by signifying termination or stability. Now that we have explored a variety of aspects of closure in biblical poetry (though certainly not exhaustively), we can return to Jonah 2 (text 6.5) and address the question of how Jonah’s prayer concludes. The poem opens with a symmetrical line-pair (3b–c). The line-pair is a closed unit (because symmetrically organized figures are inherently closed), but at the level of the entire poem, the line-pair serves as an introduction: it sets expectations that the prayer will include elements of the speaker’s distress and deliverance. Immediately (v. 4) the prayer speaks of this distress, as expected. At the end of the first stanza (sections A + B), as the drowning Jonah prays, he asks a question, “Yet may I continue to look /to your holy temple?” (5c–d). This question introduces another contextual expectation, an expectation for resolution through an answer.67 Jonah’s distress continues as the second stanza begins (v. 6). The second A section (6a–7b), Jonah’s descent, is strengthened in its closure through a line-final closural allusion: lǝʿôlām (“forever”). This closure (contrast line 4e, at the end of the first A section) sets the stage for the dramatic reversal of 7c–d. At the end of the second B section, Jonah’s question of 5c–d is resolved, with closure further strengthened by the repetition of 5d in 8d, bringing a clinch of closure to the subunit made up of the two stanzas (vv. 4–8). 67. I.e., if my translation/interpretation is correct, following Sasson; see n27, this chapter. If this is not a question, lines 8c–d still provide resolution, but as confirmation of Jonah’s statement rather than as an answer to his question. [ 206 ] Gestalt Principles
The closure brought by 8d, however, is not at the level of the entire prayer. The prayer has made its way through Jonah’s distress and deliverance, and now (thematically) we expect a response by the delivered one to the deity (just as the sailors responded in 1:16). Verse 10 provides this response. Jonah’s response is in the form of vows; he cannot sacrifice from the belly of the fish. The C section concludes with a closural allusion, the word ʾăšallēmâ (“I shall complete,” 10b, i.e., “fulfill” the vow). The final line of the poem (10c) is an unintegrated line, proclaiming, “Salvation belongs to YHWH!” Single unintegrated lines are not uncommon at the end of biblical poems, and it is worth asking how poem-final unintegrated lines function to effect or strengthen closure.68 I have argued that biblical poetic lines emerge in relation to other lines, primarily in the context of line-groupings. Unintegrated lines like Jonah 2:10c, though distinct from any line-grouping, are still perceivable in context as lines, by comparison to the other lines of a poem. But unlike other lines, they do not form figures; they provide no inner-figural connections for the reader/listener to make. Typically, the mental organization of line-groupings as figures is a demand of biblical poetry on the listener/reader. The final line of Jonah 2:10c, however, is a strong and simple single assertion (albeit backed by the rest of the prayer). It makes no such demand on the listener/reader. The unintegrated final and emphatic unqualified assertion implies that more figures are unnecessary: there is nothing more to be said (Smith 1968: 183).69 Although there is certainly more that could be said about closure in biblical poetry, this section has served as an introduction to how the Gestalt principle can account for the experience of structural shapes in verbal art, with specific examples of various (often interrelated) strategies of closure in biblical poetry. In both spatial grouping and temporal verbal art, closed structures are experienced as integral, that is, as coherent, complete, and stable. In temporal verbal art, however, closure focuses on a distinct termination point. Temporal closure confirms expectations for poetic structure based on the organization of the whole, and it also produces the expectation of nothing more. Organized wholes can effect closure, but in strategic ways, closure can also effect the perception of wholes. In biblical poetry, closure operates in verbal artistry at different levels of poetic structure: at the level of line-groupings, larger units or stanzas, and the whole poem. It cannot be accounted for simply as a formal property, since it must be cognitively experienced from a contextual convergence of various elements of patterning or organization at potentially any level of language. 68. It is not adequate to claim that final unintegrated lines are a formal marker of closure; unintegrated lines function differently depending on context, and unintegrated lines do not only occur at poem ends. In Ps 150 (text 6.16), the unintegrated line 6a modifies expectations for continuation through a change in patterning, and the final unintegrated line 6b is a return to the initial line of the poem. The context and function of the unintegrated final line of Jonah’s prayer are different. 69. The unintegrated line in Exod 15:18 functions similarly.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 207 ]
Thus far, I have made little mention of the relationship between grammatical units and closure. On the one hand, complete sentences (of one or more clauses) often correspond with the parts or wholes of poetic structure that emerge as lines or line-groupings in biblical poetry. On the other hand, even though grammatical sentences are complete units of language, the ends of sentences in biblical poetry are not all temporally experienced in the same way, with equal closure. To account for this, we need to explore one final concept, requiredness, and its relationship to closure.
6.3. REQUIREDNESS
Requiredness is the demand that one part of the perceptual field has on another (Tsur 2008: 115).70 It implies that a part “is essential to the whole: when a part is missing, there is an acute feeling of incompleteness.” Requiredness depends upon the relative strength of the organization of the whole. “Requiredness is possible only where the whole is highly organized. If the integrity of the whole is not felt, deficiency cannot be felt either” (140). Requiredness is not a Gestalt principle of grouping, but it is integrally related to properties of organized wholes, including symmetry and closure. In symmetrical wholes, one part has a demand on another corresponding part. For example, in an ABC:CBA symmetry that unfolds temporally, because of the organization of the whole, the first “A” demands the second “A.” The second “A” is strongly required for the completion of the whole and brings strong closure. In contrast, in the indefinitely continued pattern ABABABAB . . . , a fifth “A” is expected, but it will not bring completion to the pattern, only the expectation for another “B.” A component of a symmetrically patterned whole has a demand on another component in a way that a component of a continuous, open pattern cannot.71 The strength of requiredness of a component is determined by the organization of the patterned whole. Furthermore, the strength of the requiredness of a component affects the strength of the closure of the whole: “The stronger the shape of the perceptual pattern [i.e., the organization and integrity of the whole], the stronger the requiredness of the missing element and, other things being equal, the stronger the closure if achieved” (Tsur 2008: 115). In biblical poetry, requiredness is exploited for the perception of poetic structure and also poetic effects. In chapter 5, we saw various examples of unfolding symmetries in which lines or components of lines are set up as strongly
70. Tsur takes the term from Köhler, who explores the concept philosophically (1938). Tsur discusses requiredness and the related concept of articulateness and their implications for poetry (2008: 140–49). 71. As we have seen, however, an open pattern can still be brought to closure in the context of the whole of a stanza or poem, through other strategies. [ 208 ] Gestalt Principles
required in relation to the whole, and through these required lines or components, line-groupings become complete with a strong click of closure (e.g., Judg 5:4–5, text 5.40; 5:12a–b, text 5.5; 5:27, text 5.11). We also saw an example of an A/B/Aʹ symmetrical line-triple in which the third line does not bring strong closure because the expectation for symmetry is not set up (2 Sam 1:21a–c, text 5.32). As the figure unfolds, the third line (although it restores stability to the line-triple) lacks requiredness and thus does not bring strong closure. The stanza emerges as an integrated 5-line-figure, with its closure coming at the end of the symmetrical line-pair (21d–e) that follows the line-triple (21a–c). Another occurrence of A/B/Aʹ patterning without requiredness is found in Judges 5:15d–16d, for an interesting contextual effect. These six lines are a subunit of Judg 5:13–18, which recounts the tribal responses in relation to the battle.72 The passage begins with symmetrical line-pairs (13a–14d), which come to a temporary halt with the change to a line-triple in 15a–c (a change that contributes to the closure of the first subunit). The symmetrical line-pairs resume after the following interlude that focuses on Reuben: TEXT 6.22 biplaggôt rəʾûbēn Among-the-divisions-of Reuben
15d
אּובן ֵ֔ ִּב ְפ ַלּג֣ ֹות ְר
gədōlîm ḥiqqê-lēb great (were) resolutions-of~heart.
15e
י־לֽב׃ ֵ ּגְ ד ִ ֹ֖לים ִח ְק ֵק
lāmmâ yāšabtā bên hammišpətayim Why did-you-sit between the-saddlebaskets,
16a
ָל ָּ֣מה יָ ַׁ֗ש ְב ָּת ֵ ּ֚בין ַ ֽה ִּמ ְׁש ְּפ ַ֔תיִם
lišmōaʿ šəriqôt ʿădārîm listening-to whistling-of flocks?
16b
מ ַע ְׁש ִר ֣קֹות ֲע ָד ִ ֑רים ֹ ֖ ִל ְׁש
liplaggôt rəʾûbēn At-the-divisions-of Reuben
16c
אּובן ֵ֔ ִל ְפ ַלּג֣ ֹות ְר
gədôlîm ḥiqrê-lēb great (were) searchings-of~heart.
16d
י־לֽב׃ ֵ דֹולים ִח ְק ֵר ֖ ִ ְּג
72. There is, however, no strong closure of Judg 5:13–18 in v. 18; v. 18 transitions to the battle of v. 19. Thematically, the song progresses from the “coming down” (y-r-d) of tribes who volunteered (13a–14d), to the presence of Deborah and Barak (15a–c), to tribes who did not come (15d–17d), to the scene of the battle (18a–b). (Note that Zebulun is repeated in 18a from 14d: the tribal responses are not simply functioning as a list. Cf. Sasson 2014: 320–22, who highlights the matriarchal scheme for the ordering.) The scene of the battle (from 18a–b) continues (in thematic, not chronological, progression) with the kings “coming” (b-w-ʾ) to fight in 19a. These thematic shifts do not precisely correspond with the structural units/shapes of the song; rather, the thematic continuity integrates the shapes (in contrast to, e.g., the self-contained shapes of 5:3 and 5:4–5).
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 209 ]
These six lines stand out from the surrounding lines describing the responses of the tribes. Unlike the other tribes, which get one or two lines of poetry each (Issachar gets three), the tribe of Reuben gets six poetic lines. Furthermore, the subunit opens with two distinctly lighter (two-word) lines (15d–e) that form an integrated syntactic whole (clause) but with no particular internal patterning through either symmetry or similarity.73 These lines feel quite different from the preceding lines; their components lack the requiredness of the components of the symmetrical line-pairs. Yet the whole of the three line- pairs is symmetrical in an A//B//Aʹ pattern—owing to the near-repetition of 15d–e in 16c–d and the balance of the six lines as a whole (lighter –heavier – lighter line-pairs). We have seen multiple examples of how symmetrical patterning can be set up early in a sequence of lines to create expectations that are either fulfilled or thwarted. We have also seen that three-line groupings can be integrated through symmetry or partial symmetry (section 5.7). In this unit of three line- pairs, however, symmetrical expectations are not set up, nor are the first two line-pairs successively integrated with each other. As the stanza unfolds in lines 15d–16b, the listener/reader has no cues to expect symmetry of the whole. There is no sense of requiredness, of a demand of one part on another. Even when near-repetition of 15d–e comes in 16c–d, the subtle changes (just one phoneme in each line, changing the sound ever so slightly but also the meaning) contribute to the lingering feeling of uncertainty. Reuben’s indecision and inaction can be felt in the shapes of the text. The line-pair 16c–d brings closure to the unit (by returning to where the unit started), but because it was not felt as required, there is no sense of resolution. We never get the answer to the question “why?” in line 16a, nor does it feel as if we should expect an answer. Through the “return” to the beginning, it seems as though there is nothing more to say.74 Biblical poetry often exploits requiredness in relation to symmetrical patterning for structure and effects. We have seen that it also exploits a different kind of requiredness that is specific to language: grammatical requiredness through ellipsis, which often functions in structures in which matching syntax corresponds with line-pair symmetry.75 Even in contexts that do not involve
73. Lines 15d–e are two lines, not one line, because 15d and 15e emerge as two parts of a whole. Segmentation of a text into equal parts tends to strengthen the parts, unless the organization of the whole precludes it (see section 7.3). Lines 16a–b constitute a distinct line-grouping. 74. It should be clear from this example that requiredness as a perceptual phenomenon is not to be confused with value or significance. Every word and line matters in an artfully constructed poem and makes its own contribution to the whole. Less-required components are not of less significance than more-required components. 75. However, some patterns involving grammatical ellipsis and requiredness, though necessarily found in syntactically matching line-pairs, are perceptual line-grouping patterns of repetition and continuation, not symmetry; see ch. 4, n52 and ch. 6, n7. [ 210 ] Gestalt Principles
grammatical ellipsis, however, biblical poetry exploits grammatical requiredness for poetic structure and effects. The remainder of this section explores grammatical requiredness in non-elliptical contexts. In everyday speech and in literary language, grammatical relationships produce highly organized and integrated grammatical wholes, with demands of certain components on others. A lexically transitive verb, for example, demands or requires an object. A noun functioning as a subject requires a predicate for the completion of a clause. A vocative is outside of clausal structure, but at a higher level of discourse, it demands an appropriate utterance to accompany it (although the nature of the utterance may take various forms).76 Grammatical requiredness operates in language because of the nature of well-organized grammatical wholes: grammar requires certain kinds of complete relationships. Theoretically, however, even grammatically complete clauses and sentences can go on indefinitely, analogous to open patterns. A single clause may be infinitely expanded with nonrequired elements, for example, with prepositional phrases (“There’s a speck on the flea on the tail on the frog on the bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea”) or grammatical objects (“On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me eleven pipers piping, ten lords a-leaping . . .”).77 Thus, to exploit grammatical requiredness for closural effects in poetic structure (i.e., lines and line-groupings), the theoretically open clause or sentence must somehow be brought to closure. The temporality of language—the unfolding of verbal shapes in time—and the flexibility of Hebrew word order make this possible. By manipulating word order, biblical poets can make the potentially open- ended clause or sentence feel closed, rather than simply ended. A strongly required grammatical element that is postponed can strengthen the closure of a clause—or even effect its closure—when the element finally occurs. Consider these variations in word order of the opening line of David’s Lament, 2 Samuel 1:19a: TEXT 6.23 (a) *haṣṣǝbî ḥālāl yiśrāʾēl ʿal-bāmôtêkā The-splendor (is)-slain, O-Israel, upon~your-heights!
76. We have seen the demand of a vocative for an appropriate utterance in the symmetrical context of Judg 5:10 (text 5.30), which turns out to be the imperative at the end of 10c. In this passage the expectation for an appropriate utterance does not decrease but builds with each successive vocative. The postponement of the imperative strengthens its felt requiredness, which further strengthens the closure of the symmetrically patterned line-triple. 77. In both of these cumulative songs, each successive verse adds to the middle of the clause and thus is able to still achieve closure through the repetition that ends each verse.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 211 ]
(b) *haṣṣǝbî yiśrāʾēl ḥālāl ʿal-bāmôtêkā The-splendor, O-Israel, (is)-slain upon~your-heights! (c)
haṣṣǝbî yiśrāʾēl ʿal-bāmôtêkā ḥālāl The-splendor, O-Israel, upon~your-heights (is)-slain!
Not only do the changes in word order affect the distinct prosodic shapes of each line; they also affect the strength of grammatical closure at the end of the line. The initial word, haṣṣǝbî (“the splendor”), requires a predicate. In context, the grammatical demand of haṣṣǝbî (“the splendor”) is upon the predicate adjective ḥālāl (“slain”), which provides the required completion to the clause.78 By postponing ḥālāl (“slain”) to the end of the clause, line (c), the original line of the lament, ends with the strongest closure.79 The strong closure serves to strengthen the unity of the line. (Not only do organized wholes effect closure; closure can also effect the perception of wholes.) That is, line (c) as a whole has the strongest shape of the three variations. 2 Samuel 1:19a emerges as one line, not two; the lament opens with an imbalanced line-pair (19a–b), not a line-triple, which is further supported by the emergence of similar line-pairs in 25a–b and 27a–b (text 5.42). Thus, word order that strengthens grammatical closure potentially strengthens the shape of a poetic line, contributing to the perception of line structure.80 In the following examples, perception of line structure is not dependent simply on the prosodic phrasing of the text; the marked word order further strengthens the phrasing—and thus the shapes of the poetic lines— through grammatical requiredness.81 Marked word order strengthens the shapes of several lines in Jonah’s prayer. After the poem’s initial symmetrical line-pair, the line-groupings resist symmetry and regularity of rhythms and line lengths. The poem instead relies on other strategies to strengthen the shapes of prosodic phrases that emerge as lines. In Jonah 2:7c (ET 2:6c), the word order (V PP O) strengthens the shape of the clause, so that 7c and 7d emerge as two parts of a line-pair, not
78. The prepositional phrase ʿal-bāmôtêkā (“upon your heights”) could serve alone as the required predicate, but in context it does not. It is grammatically optional. 79. Furthermore, the trajectory of the line “lands” on the slain heroes, the topic of the lament. I thank Adele Berlin for this observation, by way of personal correspondence. 80. Word order does not automatically strengthen closure; the context, i.e., the structure of the whole, is key. For textual examples in which syntactic dis-integration competes with grammatical requiredness for line structure, see section 7.1. 81. By marked word order, I mean nonstandard word order, according to all accounts. The debate about basic word order (VS versus SV) in biblical Hebrew does not factor into the examples here. Furthermore, by arguing for the potential effect of word order on poetic structure, I am not ruling out pragmatic implications of word order; pragmatic and poetic structure explanations need not be mutually exclusive. [ 212 ] Gestalt Principles
as a single unintegrated line.82 That is, the verb wattaʿal (“and-you-brought- up”) demands an object, which is met in ḥayyay (“my-life”), strengthening the grammatical closure at the end of line 7c.83 TEXT 6.24 Wattaʿal miššaḥat ḥayyay And-you-brought-up from-pit my-life,
7c
וַ ַ ּ֧ת ַעל ִמ ַ ּׁ֛ש ַחת ַח ַּי֖י
yhwh ʾĕlōhāy YHWH my-God!
7d
ֹלהי׃ ֽ ָ הו֥ה ֱא ָ ְי
In Jonah 2:9–10 (ET 2:8–9), each line-pair emerges as a whole with two parts. In 10a, grammatical requiredness (the demand of the pronoun waʾănî, “and-I,” on the clause-final word [verb] after the prepositional phrase) strengthens the unity of the relatively long line, so that it can be organized with 10b as a line-pair.84 TEXT 6.25 mǝšammǝrîm hablê-šāwʾ Those-who-hold-to idols-of~emptiness
9a
י־ׁשוְ א ֑ ָ ְמ ַׁש ְּמ ִ ֖רים ַה ְב ֵל
ḥasdām yaʿăzōbû their-mercy forsake.
9b
ַח ְס ָ ּ֖דם יַ ֲע ֹֽזבּו׃
waʾănî bǝqôl tôdâ ʾezbǝḥâ-lāk And-I85 with-a-voice-of thankgiving shall-sacrifice~to-you;
10a ה־ּלְך ָ ֔ ּתֹוד ֙ה ֶאזְ ְּב ָח ָ וַ ֲא ִ֗ני ְּב ֤קֹול
ʾăšer nādartî ʾăšallēmâ that-which I-have-vowed I-shall-complete.
10b
ֲא ֶ ׁ֥שר נָ ַ ֖ד ְר ִּתי ֲא ַׁש ֵּל ָ֑מה
The Song of Deborah also uses word order to strengthen the shapes of lines. In Judges 5:11e, the word order strengthens the shape of the unintegrated line:
82. The unmarked word order is V O PP. Shorter prepositions with a pronominal suffix (not the case here) tend to stand closer to the verb. On marked/unmarked word order of prepositional phrases within clauses, see Lode 1984, 1988; Gross 1996; and BHRG 493–94. 83. The vocative of 7d is not contextually required by the second person verb in 7c; this entire poem is a prayer to YHWH. Thus, felt closure comes at the end of 7c, not 7d. 84. On the word order and shapes of 9a–b, see text 7.4. 85. The contrast with v. 9, set up by the conjunction and clause-initial explicit pronoun, can be communicated in English translation as follows: “But as for me, with loud thanksgiving I shall sacrifice to you.” The word order of this line is related to both poetic structure and pragmatics.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 213 ]
TEXT 6.26 miqqôl mǝḥaṣṣîm Amid-the-sound-of dividers,86
11a
ִמ ּ֣קֹול ְמ ַ ֽח ְצ ִ֗צים
bên mašʾabbîm between troughs,
11b
ֵ ּ֚בין ַמ ְׁש ַא ִּ֔בים
šām yǝtannû ṣidqôt yhwh there they-were-recounting the-righteous- deeds-of YHWH,
11c
הוה ֔ ָ ְיְת ּ֙נּו ִצ ְד ֣קֹות י ַ ָ ׁ֤שם
ṣidqōt pirzōnô bǝyiśrāʾēl 11d the-righteous-deeds-for his-peasantry in-Israel.
ִצ ְד ֥קֹת ִּפ ְרזֹנ֖ ֹו ְּביִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֑אל
ʾāz yārǝdû laššǝʿārîm ʿam-yhwh Then went-down to-the-gates the-people-of~YHWH.
11e הוה׃ ֽ ָ ְָ ֛אז יָ ְר ֥דּו ַל ְּׁש ָע ִ ֖רים ַעם־י
Lines 11a–d emerge as a closed four-line (A/A/B/B) whole.87 Line 11e is connected to these lines (through the adverb ʾāz, “then”), but it is unintegrated with the patterning of the previous line-grouping, as well as with the following line-grouping. The verb yārǝdû (“they-went-down”) does not grammatically require an explicit subject to complete the clause, though the explicit subject is contextually necessary to identify who is going down. Owing to the clause- final placement of the subject (after the prepositional phrase), the clause has strengthened closure and thus emerges as a unified line. In Judges 5:17a, following the Reuben interlude (15d–16d, text 6.22), the marked word order ensures that line 17a can be heard as a unified four-word line (and the beginning of a new subunit of resumed symmetrical line-pairs), in contrast to the two short lines of 16c–d that it follows. The line-initial subject in 17a strongly requires the verb, which is line-final (after the prepositional phrase), strengthening the shape of the whole clause and thus the poetic line.
86. The piʿel of ḥ-ṣ-ṣ occurs only here. If the basic meaning is “divide” (cf. the qal form in Prov 30:27), the reference may be to the dividing of flocks or the distribution of water. For other options, see Butler 2009: 118. 87. The symmetrical A lines, through grammatical dependence, create the expectation for a symmetrical pair of B lines. Lines 11c and 11d only loosely meet that expectation through partial and weak chiastic symmetry: adverb (place) –verb –ṣidqōt construct / ṣidqōt construct –adverbial phrase (place). Notice that 11c–d is not syntactically symmetrical; the verb of 11c is not elided in 11d, but rather, the whole of 11d is in apposition to ṣidqôt yhwh (“the-righteous-deeds-of YHWH”) in 11c. It is the organization of the four-line whole that potentially influences the listener/reader to organize 11c–d as symmetrical, rather than as an AB/BC pattern. Alternatively, if 11c–d is heard as an AB/BC pattern, the weakening of the four-line symmetry may result in weakened closure and thus stronger integration between 11a–d and 11e. [ 214 ] Gestalt Principles
TEXT 6.27 gilʿād bǝʿēber hayyardēn šākēn Gilead, across the-Jordan settled,
17a
ּגִ ְל ֗ ָעד ְּב ֵע ֶ֤בר ַהּיַ ְר ֵ ּ֙דן ָׁש ֵ֔כן
wǝdān lāmmâ yāgûr ʾŏniyyôt and-Dan, why did-he-sojourn (in) ships?
17b
וְ ָ ֕דן ָל ָּ֥מה יָ ג֖ ּור ֳאנִ ּי֑ ֹות
ʾāšēr yāšab lǝḥôp yammîm Asher dwelt at-shore-of sea,
17c
יַּמים ִ֔ ָא ֵׁ֗שר יָ ַׁש ֙ב ְל ֣חֹוף
wǝʿal miprāṣāyw yiškôn and-by its harbors settled.
17d
וְ ַ ֥על ִמ ְפ ָר ָ ֖ציו יִ ְׁש ּֽכֹון׃
To summarize, requiredness refers to the demand of one part of an organized whole on another. The stronger the organization of the whole, the stronger the requiredness of a missing element, and the stronger the closure if achieved. Biblical poetry exploits requiredness for both the perception of poetic structure and effects. Often, this occurs in symmetrical contexts, with or without grammatical requiredness. But biblical poetry can also exploit word order to strengthen the shapes of lines in non-symmetrical contexts, by bringing felt closure to the ends of clauses that are in theory open ended.
6.4. FROM GESTALT PRINCIPLES TO PRINCIPLED LINEATIONS
Chapters 4, 5, and 6 have presented various Gestalt principles as the mental shortcuts that allow the listener of biblical poetry to process textual stimuli into patterns of integrated wholes. These principles account for the listener’s ability to identify particular elements of language that are relevant to the shapes of lines and organization of line-groupings in the context of organized wholes. They also account for the likelihood that certain patterns or relationships will be heard rather than others, and that they will be heard and processed quickly and efficiently in the performance of aural poetry. As these chapters have shown, these basic principles account for a great diversity of lines and line-groupings, as well as various poetic effects. A perception-oriented approach to lineation is a paradigm shift from how biblical lineation is typically approached. It does not attempt to uncover a system of rules for lineation (either descriptive or prescriptive) or create a taxonomy of conventional patterns that the poet knowingly or unknowingly followed. Nor does it propose any objective or formal lineation “markers” for lines, since what may seem to be a “marker” in one context may turn out to be something quite different in another (e.g., repetition or ellipsis). Rather, this approach asks what perceptible aural shapes emerge from the text and how they are likely to be mentally organized by the listener/reader in part-whole patterned relationships. Poetic structure emerges in the subjective and active G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 215 ]
cognitive experience of the listener/reader.88 But as we have seen, lineation is not merely subjective: not just anything goes. Lines emerge in principled ways, according to basic and fundamental perceptual principles. Where does this leave us with respect to “method” in the lineation of biblical texts? On the one hand, the perceptual principles cannot be made into neatly ordered rules for lineation, because the shapes of real contextual poetry are far too complex.89 As in visual perception, the Gestalt principles cannot be ranked in order of importance or applicability, nor can they be used to predict actual outcomes (Palmer 1999: 259; but see also Kubovy and van den Berg 2008). However, we can still strive for principled lineations. The Gestalt principles give us tools for lineation, even though they do not give us rules. A perceptual approach to lineation must include the following three components: (1) legitimate expectations, (2) active contextual listening, and (3) a cognitive account of proposed structure. First, we must approach biblical poetic texts with legitimate expectations. We must intentionally shed expectations that are foreign to the biblical versification system and adopt expectations that are appropriate.90
88. An interesting question is the relationship between inference and induction in the mental organization of poetic structure. Smith refers to poetic structure as an inference (1968: 10–14, 119). “As we read the poem, it is a hypothesis whose probability is tested as we move from line to line and adjusted in response to what we find there” (13). This view of poetic structure may account for the organization of whole poems in the Bible, but it does not adequately account for the experience of every line-grouping in biblical poetry. Arnheim makes a distinction between perceptual inductions and logical inferences (in the context of visual art): “Inferences are thought operations that add something to the given visual facts by interpreting them. Perceptual inductions are sometimes interpolations based on previously acquired knowledge. More typically, however, they are completions deriving spontaneously during perception from the given configuration of the pattern” (1974: 12). This idea of perceptual inductions accounts for certain aspects of biblical line structure that inferences cannot: e.g., the spontaneous sense that a string of similar-sounding words belong together. I am not going to attempt to sort out which aspects of the organization of poetic structure were inferences and which were inductions in the minds of ancient Hebrew poetry audiences. More importantly for our purposes here, both of these processes share in common the active mental organization of structure, within the constraint of Gestalt principles. 89. There is no way to apply the Gestalt principles as “a system of analytical rules of thumb” because of the “number, interdependence, and subtlety of the variables involved” (Meyer 1956: 86). 90. Expectations are habit responses of high-order mental activity that are both conscious and unconscious (Meyer 1956: 24, 30). They “arise out of the nature of human mental processes—the modes in which the mind perceives, groups, and organizes the data presented by the senses” (43). But expectations are also based upon learning of style and conventions; i.e., “the most satisfactory organization in any given case is a product of cultural experience” (85; see also Wertheimer 1938: 86–87). In the actual experience of music or poetry or art, the boundary between the two types of expectation may not be clear cut; rather, the interaction between the two types of expectation is more likely “intimate and subtle” (Meyer 1956: 43). [ 216 ] Gestalt Principles
Past experiences, both within the immediate work of art one is experiencing and within the more remote past of previous works of art as well as other life experiences, affect mental organization of the stimulus field. They condition what is looked for and modify what is perceived (Arnheim 1974: 48–51; see also Peterson and Skow-Grant 2003). Meyer writes that “the practiced [music] listener has learned to direct his attention in particular ways, depending upon the stylistic circumstances; hence he not only tends to improve articulation in general but tends to favor certain types of organizations over others in a given set of stylistic circumstances” (1956: 187). Likewise, in biblical poetry, listener/reader expectations and experiences shape the mental organization of line structure, for good and for ill. It is not hard to see that experiences with metrical poetry and modern free verse have shaped expectations for many readers and scholars of biblical poetry. These include the expectation that line-pairs in general will be “balanced” (impacted in part by measured/metered lines that conform to a shared template, but also by a particular understanding of “parallelism”), the expectation that lines in a poem will all be roughly the same length (based on standard English metrical forms and pleasing visual forms of poems on the page), the expectation that lines can be demarcated according to quantifiable rules or formal features (derived from rule-based approaches to meter), the expectation that how individual lines come to an end is especially significant (based on end-markers such as rhyme and the importance of line-ends to metrical poetry), the expectation that line-ends in and of themselves can determine the shapes/rhythms of the line (based on line-ends and enjambment, especially in modern free verse), and the expectation that some aspects of language are related to line structure while others are not (the prioritization, e.g., of word stresses or syntax). While perception is based on universal principles, we must not underestimate the importance of expectations. If we bring extraneous expectations to the biblical poetic texts, even “universal” principles of part-whole organization cannot guarantee what the outcome of perceived poetic structure will be (as evidenced by the history of biblical scholarship). I have argued, however, that the versification system of biblical poetry requires listeners/readers to bring a very different set of expectations to it: the expectation that line structure can be heard temporally unfolding based on the language shapes of the text, the expectation that components from potentially any aspect of language can be organized in line structure, the expectation for free rhythms, and especially, the expectation that poems are made up of poetic figures—nonlinear “lines” and “line”-groupings that are organized in part-whole relationships. Second, we must actively listen and relisten to poetic texts contextually, trying out different shapes and organizations in mental performance (ideally, communally), continually informed by our cumulative knowledge of biblical poetry. A line cannot be heard or analyzed without a context. Line-groupings G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 217 ]
too emerge in contexts, of stanzas and poems. The organization of the whole— at any of these levels of poetic structure—informs what patterns emerge as structurally relevant. Third, we must provide a plausible account of the perceptibility of our proposed poetic structures—how the structures perceptibly unfold aurally in time and by what cognitive constraints (Gestalt principles, as well as immediate memory, discussed in section 7.3). Poetic structure emerges along with poetic effects; accounts of poetic structure should corroborate accounts of poetic effects and vice versa. As a case study in principled lineation, we can return to David’s Lament, to 2 Samuel 1:26, which is lineated variously by scholars, because of its irregular rhythms and lack of “parallelism.” The basic questions are whether 26a is one line or two, and whether 26c is one line or two. TEXT 6.28 ʾêk nāpǝlû gibbōrîm bǝtôk hammilḥāmâ How have-fallen warriors in-midst-of the-battle!
25a ֵ ֚איְך נָ ְפ ֣לּו גִ ּב ִ ֹ֔רים ְּב ֖תֹוְך ַה ִּמ ְל ָח ָ ֑מה
yǝhônātān ʿal-bāmôtêkā ḥālāl Jonathan upon~your-heights (is) slain!
25b
מֹותיָך ָח ָ ֽלל׃ ֖ ֶ ל־ּב ָ יְ ֣הֹונָ ָ֔תן ַע
ṣar-lî ʿālêkā ʾāḥî yǝhônātān It-is-distress~to-me91 concerning-you, my- brother Jonathan.
26a
חי יְ ֣הֹונָ ָ֔תן ֙ ִ ר־לי ָע ֗ ֶליָך ָא ֣ ִ ַצ
nāʿamtā lî mǝʾōd You-were-pleasant to-me exceedingly.
26b
אד ֹ ֑ נָ ַ ֥ע ְמ ָּת ִ ּ֖לי ְמ
niplǝʾatâ ʾahăbātǝkā lî mēʾahăbat nāšîm 26c Wonderful-was your-love to-me, more-than- love-of women.
נִ ְפ ְל ַ ֤א ָתה ַא ֲה ָ ֽב ְת ָ֙ך ֔ ִלי ֵמ ַא ֲה ַ ֖בת נָ ִ ֽׁשים׃
We must begin by adjusting our expectations: we should expect to hear line structure emerge temporally, based on the unfolding shapes of the text, from potentially any aspect of language. We can expect rhythmic patterning but not necessarily regularity in line lengths. Our foundational expectation must be the emergence of lines integrated within a line-grouping, parts within an organized whole. Next, we must listen contextually. Verse 25a–b is a line-pair, a complete whole (patterned after 19a–b); v. 26 begins a new line-grouping. As v. 26 begins, we hear two distinct segments, with a space before the vocative: ṣar-lî ʿālêkā ʾāḥî yǝhônātān (“It-is-distress~to-me concerning-you, my-brother Jonathan”). 91. I.e., “I am distressed . . .” [ 218 ] Gestalt Principles
Are these phrases two parts of an organized whole, or do they emerge together as a cohesive unit? We may recall that the lament has twice thus far arranged vocatives as distinct parts of a whole, that is, as lines within a line-grouping (text 5.42): the first line of the line-triple 21a–c (in a five-line stanza) and the first line of the line-pair 24a–b (in a four-line stanza). Notice, however, that the word order in 26a is different. The vocative here follows the clause. A vocative that precedes a clause makes a demand for some kind of unspecific utterance, a demand that may grow stronger as the utterance unfolds (as in Judg 5:10, text 5.30). An utterance with a second-person referent that precedes a vocative—if that antecedent is unknown—makes a strong, specific demand for a vocative.92 The antecedent of “you” in 25b is Israel (from 19a). The addressee switches abruptly in 26a, and the antecedent of “you” is unknown: the vocative is thus strongly required, strengthening the unity of the two-phrase shape in 26a. Yet the strength of a shape is relative: it is the organization of the whole that will confirm or disconfirm whether the shape of 26a is one line. We need to keep listening. The text continues: nāʿamtā lî mǝʾōd (“You-were-pleasant to-me exceedingly”). This is clearly one part, a single line, and it provides us with a key piece for organizing the emerging whole: the repetition of lî (“to-me”). The beginning of this second clause is similar to the first: ṣar-lî . . . nāʿamtā lî (“distress~to-me . . . you-were-pleasant to-me”). These clauses can be organized in relation to each other within an emerging whole. Yet the whole does not feel complete (try reading the stanza without line 26c). The correspondence between the beginnings of the two parts (26a and 26b) is not brought to a meaningful completion; 26b comes up short, and the figure demands more. Line 26c unfolds within this expectation for more, an expectation for the resolution of this emerging figure. The third clause begins with what might seem like a missed opportunity for part-whole similarity, with the word order niplǝʾatâ ʾahăbātǝkā lî (“wonderful-was your-love to-me”) rather than *niplǝʾatâ lî ʾahăbātǝkā (“wonderful-was to-me your-love”).93 The modified word order produces three lines with similar beginnings. But it also sets up a possible expectation for three-line symmetry, an expectation that falls flat at the end, because mēʾahăbat nāšîm (“more-than-love-of women”) does not correspond in any particular way with ʾāḥî yǝhônātān (“my-brother Jonathan”). An equilibrium of sorts results in this modified text, but it feels banal and artificial. In contrast, the actual word order avoids this false sense of symmetry, creating a very different kind of patterning while still achieving stability through a
92. Compare Jonah 2:7c–d (text 6.24), in which the antecedent is known. 93. Short prepositional phrases commonly stand just after the verb; see n82, this chapter.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 219 ]
restoration of balance. As already mentioned, the repetition of lî (“to-me”) is key to the organization of the whole line-grouping. The prosodic shapes of the Masoretic Text (due especially to the maqqef/hyphen in 26a) underscore the expansive patterning of the repetition: ṣ ar-lî distress~to-me nāʿamtā lî you-were-pleasant to-me niplǝʾatâ ʾahăbātǝkā lî wonderful-was your-love to-me With lî (“to-me”) as the constant, each successive clause intensifies what precedes lî, through both heavier phonological weight and more complex grammatical structures. As a result of the expansive patterning, the final line (26c) holds together, rather than breaking into two parts. For one thing, it continues the pattern of one clause per line. But even more importantly, it continues the pattern of a constituent following the word lî (“to-me”): ṣ ar-lî ʿālêkā nāʿamtā lî mǝʾōd niplǝʾatâ ʾahăbātǝkā lî ⌞⌟
distress~to-me concerning-you you-were-pleasant to-me exceedingly wonderful-was your-love to-me ⌞⌟
As 26c unfolds within the overall patterning, we expect another constituent to follow lî (“to-me”), and this expectation is met in mēʾahăbat nāšîm (“more- than-love-of women”). Expansive patterns, however, are inherently open. How does the poet bring this pattern to closure? The pattern has operated within the syntax of each successive clause. The vocative in 26a is outside the syntax of the clause (and thus the successive syntactic patterning),94 yet it has contributed prominently to the felt incompleteness of 26b in relation to 26a. This incompleteness can be felt in the stark heavy-light imbalance of lines 26a and 26b. Recall that the movement from imbalance to balance—restored stability—can effect the closure of a whole (section 6.2). While the syntactic patterning remains open with 26c, the restored balance of the figure at the end of 26c brings the line- triple to completion. The figure emerges as a three-line balanced whole, integrated with 25a–b as a five-line stanza devoted to Jonathan. I have argued for the perceptibility of this part-whole lineation of v. 26 based on the immediate context. The broader context—the overall chiastic structure of the poem—further confirms the lineation of this five-line stanza. In the process of actively listening for contextual shapes and part-whole organization, it is often helpful to try out different mental organizations of
94. See C. L. Miller 2010b. [ 220 ] Gestalt Principles
lines and line-groupings. For example, we can try out the organization of 26a as a two-part whole and listen to how well it fits the shapes of the text.95 The organization of 26a as a part of an integrated three-line whole fits the shapes of the text better. Furthermore, as I have demonstrated, it may also be helpful to test our hunches about how shapes are organized by rearranging words or larger segments of text and listening to how those changes affect the organization of the whole. The expectation for part-whole patterned organization (rather than meter or parallelism or syntactic constraints) has driven my lineation. I have consistently argued for the plausibility of the perceptibility of the three lines of 2 Sam 1:26 based on how they unfold aurally and temporally. The part-whole organization involves a complex interplay of proximity (phrasing), similarity (of 26b in relation to 26a), continuation (expansive patterning), closure (restored stability), and requiredness (word order of 26a). Line perception is constrained by these principles, but they cannot be made into rules for lineation. Noticeably absent from the line-grouping of v. 26 is symmetry. Although the lament is arranged in an overall chiastic symmetry, in various places the poet has strategically avoided the equilibrium of symmetry, as well as the certainty brought about by the clinch of symmetrical closure (the imbalance of 20a–b, the lack of requiredness in 21a–c, the non-symmetry of 24a–d as a whole), reserving strong and stable symmetry for the centerpiece of the lament (22– 23). Poetic structure of biblical poetry emerges along with poetic effects. The lines of v. 26 are the most deeply personal and emotionally poignant lines in the lament, the final stanza before the closing line-pair. They do not emerge with equilibrium or through neat and ordered certainty. The line-triple, and the stanza, come to completion and closure, but in the midst of increasing intensity. Grief is communicated not only by the words but also by the shapes of the poem. The lineation of a biblical poem requires an active ear, bent toward not only deciphering language but also organizing it as verbal art. But biblical poetry was not and need not be the domain of an artistic elite. With Arnheim, we can assert that every listener or reader’s hearing “anticipates in a modest way the justly admired capacity of the artist to produce patterns that validly interpret experience by means of organized form” (1974: 46). That is, the patterns of biblical poetry are accessible to us because the same principles underlie the everyday perception of our active eyes and ears. Yet if we are to lineate biblical poems in principled ways, we must be able to account for and discuss what our ears hear and also argue for the likelihood that other ears can hear the same. As we communally engage with the biblical poems, we must dialogue about
95. See further the methodological discussion in Tsur 2008: 154, on “crucial recommendations” and mental performances.
G O O D C O N T I N UAT I O N , C L O S U R E , RE Q U IRE D NESS
[ 221 ]
not only which mental organizations best fit the verbal shapes of the text but also how different mental organizations affect our interpretations and experiences of the poems. A long scholarly history of foreign expectations need not convince us that the ancient Hebrew poems lacked any coherent versification system. Nor should the absence of native performances or phonetic realizations of the ancient poems necessarily lead us to conclude that the poetic structure of biblical poems is unrecoverable. I am convinced that the more we pay attention to the principles of part-whole organization explored in these three chapters, the better we will get at hearing the shapes and patterns of biblical poetry. The lines and line-groupings of biblical free-rhythm poetry can emerge both in the subjective experience of the listener and in principled ways.
[ 222 ] Gestalt Principles
PART III
Remaining Issues
CHAPTER 7
Integration and Unintegrated Lines, Rhythm in Lamentations, and Line-Length Constraints
Through the figural conceptualization of the biblical Hebrew line and line-grouping (chapter 3) and the principles of part-whole Gestalt organization that provide the structural potential of biblical poetry (chapters 4–6), I have established the free- rhythm versification system of biblical Hebrew poetry. In this chapter I address three of the remaining unresolved issues of biblical poetry. First, I discuss integration at different levels of biblical poetry. While biblical lines emerge in part-whole relationships of lines and line-groupings, this system of versification does not rule out the occurrence of single lines that are unintegrated in line-groupings, nor does it prevent integration at levels higher than the line-grouping, such as stanzas and entire poems. The artistry of biblical poetry is elucidated by various aspects of integration. Second, I argue that the book of Lamentations, which has long been used as the prime example of so-called qinah (long:short or 3:2) meter in biblical poetry, is not metrical. Furthermore, its supposed long-short “rhythms” do not provide the line structure and effects of Lamentations 1–4. Rather, both the line structure and accompanying effects of the laments of Lamentations are best accounted for by the very same constraints of part-whole grouping that account for the rest of biblical free-rhythm poetry. Third, I address how short or long lines can be in biblical poetry. Throughout c hapters 4–6, I relied on the Gestalt principles and my own contextual listening to argue for particular lineations based on the shapes that emerge from the biblical texts. I purposely avoided prematurely invoking a theoretical memory constraint in support or critique of proposed lineations. Here, I address line lengths in biblical poetry based on actual lines observed, in connection with the constraints of Gestalt principles and immediate memory, and I also address the perceptibility of patterning in general in relation to these constraints. Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0007
T
he lines of biblical poetry, the basic units of poetic structure, emerge in the part-whole relationships of lines and line-groupings. If biblical poetic structure is to be perceived, the line must be heard as a distinct unit, and the line-grouping must be heard as an organized emerging whole. The lines of free-rhythm biblical poetry are organized in relation to each other, not in relation to an external template. A Gestalt framework addresses why certain organized part-whole relationships are more likely to emerge than others in actual contexts and how the free-rhythm lines of biblical poetry have perceivable structure in the absence of a template. The final chapters of this book build upon these ideas to address remaining issues in biblical poetry. This chapter discusses integration and unintegrated lines, rhythm and lines in Lamentations 1–4, and line length constraints in biblical poetry.
7.1. INTEGRATION AND UNINTEGRATED LINES
Two dynamic mental processes operate concurrently in the emergence of the lines of biblical poetry: the segregation of parts (the lines, the basic structural units of a poem), and the integration of these lines into line-groupings of unified, organized wholes. Segregation is essential: if the parts cannot be distinguished—that is, if the lines are overly integrated and not perceivable as units—the poem fails to emerge as a poem, or it slips into prose. But segregation of lines by itself, in the absence of integration of line-groupings, does not produce poetic structure in biblical poetry. It is the whole line-grouping that provides the framework by which parts can be organized as lines in relation to each other, as well as the basis for determining which elements of language are relevant to the patterning. If the integration of the line-grouping as a whole fails—if the parts remain disparate and unorganized—the segregated units do not emerge as a poem. Biblical poetry is built from lines that fit to each other. The words of biblical poetry are crafted by the poets into part-whole relationships of lines and line-groupings, by which poetic structure, rhythm, and effects emerge. Biblical poetry demands the cooperation of the listener/ reader to mentally organize these line-groupings if the audience is to have a shared (though still individual and subjective) experience of verbal art.1 The lines of Psalm 100, for example, are relatively undisputed, but the line- groupings are not. Yet we have not adequately “lineated” Ps 100 if we have not addressed what the line-groupings are and how they emerge. As we saw in
1. Segregated segments of random text can potentially be organized into “artful” wholes because of the mind’s creative ability to make semantic connections. But such an arbitrary and subjective endeavor does not reflect the nature of biblical poetic texts, which clearly operate with the objective of a communal experience of artful communication. [ 226 ] Remaining Issues
section 2.1 (text 2.1), the psalm begins with an integrated line-triple (differing from the Masoretic verse division, which groups the superscription with the first poetic line in v. 1). How the remainder of the line-groupings emerge as integrated wholes requires explanation, since they do not all align with the Masoretic verse shapes.2 TEXT 7.1 mizmôr lǝtôdâ A-psalm for-praise.
1a
תֹודה ֑ ָ ִמזְ ֥מֹור ְל
hārîʿû layhwh kol-hāʾāreṣ Shout to-YHWH, all~the-earth.
1b
ל־ה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ָ יהוה ָּכ ֗ ָ ָה ִ ֥ריעּו ֜ ַל
ʿibdû ʾet-yhwh bǝśimḥâ Serve ‹o.m.›~YHWH with-joy.
2a
הו֣ה ְּב ִׂש ְמ ָ ֑חה ָ ְִע ְב ֣דּו ֶאת־י
bōʾû lǝpānāyw birnānâ Enter to-his-face with-resounding.
2b
ּ֥בֹאּו ֜ ְל ָפ ָ֗ניו ִּב ְרנָ ָנֽה׃
dǝʿû kî-yhwh hûʾ ʾĕlōhîm Know that~YHWH, he (is) God;3
3a
ְּד ֗עּו ִ ּֽכי־יְ הוָ ֘ה ֤הּוא ֱא ֹ֫ל ִ ֥הים
hûʾ-ʿāśānû wǝlô ʾănaḥnû he~made-us, and-to-him (are) we,4
3b
ּוא־ע ָׂשנּו (וְ לֹא) [וְ ל֣ ֹו] ֲא ַנ ְ֑חנּו ֭ ָ ֽה
ʿammô wǝṣōʾn marʿîtô his-people [are we], and-the-flock-of his- shepherding [are we].5
3c
יתֹו׃ ֽ ֜ ַע ּ֗מֹו וְ ֣צ ֹאן ַמ ְר ִע
bōʾû šǝʿārāyw bǝtôdâ Enter his-gates with-praise,
4a
תֹודה ֗ ָ ּ֤בֹאּו ְׁש ָע ָ ֙ריו׀ ְּב
ḥăṣērōtāyw bithillâ [enter] his-courts with acclamation.
4b
ֲח ֵצר ָ ֹ֥תיו ִּב ְת ִה ָּל֑ה
2. The Masoretic verse unit represents a prosodic phonological utterance, which may or may not correspond with a poetic figure or line-grouping (see section 4.3). “Utterances are pragmatically determined units of speech” (Pitcher 2020: 74). Just as the line is not to be equated with a unit of any single level of language (e.g., the prosodic phrase or the syntactic clause), the line-grouping cannot be equated with the pragmatic utterance. In the following analysis of Ps 100, I demonstrate that even though phrasing is essential to how lines/line-groupings can be heard in biblical poetry, neither Masoretic accents nor verses simply map onto poetic structure. 3. The verbless clause with the third-person personal pronoun is a unified construction in Hebrew, though it is divided into two prosodic phrases (thus the comma in English). On the grammar, see BHRG, 293–94, 514. 4. I.e., “we belong to him.” The Hebrew preserves a K/Q variation; the translation follows the Q reading. 5. I understand the syntax of this line as two elliptical clauses; alternatively, the two phrases are in apposition to “we” in 3b.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 227 ]
hôdû-lô bārăkû šǝmô Praise~to-him,6 bless his-name—
4c
ֹודּו־לֹו ָּב ֲר ֥כּו ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ֜ ֗ ֽה
kî-ṭôb yhwh for~good (is) YHWH,
5a
י־טֹוב ְי֭הוָֹ ה ֣ ִּכ
lǝʿôlām ḥasdô for-ever (is) his-loyal-love,
5b
עֹול֣ם ַח ְס ּ֑דֹו ָ ְל
wǝʿad-dōr wādōr ʾĕmûnātô and-to~generation and-generation his-steadfastness.
5c
וְ ַעד־ ּ֥ד ֹר ָ ֜ו ֗ד ֹר ֱאמּונָ ֽתֹו׃
The first line-triple in the psalm (1b–2b) is integrated through the line-initial imperatives and correspondences between components of the lines that result in partial symmetries between the pairs of lines, resulting in overall equilibrium of the whole. The next line-triple (3a–c) is likewise integrated, but quite differently. The beginnings of lines 3b and 3c are each integrated with an element of the previous (prosodic) phrase: line 3b repeats hûʾ (“he”) from the final phrase of line 3a, and the first clause of line 3c (ʿammô, “his people”) requires us to fill in the elided subject from the end of 3b (ʾănaḥnû, “we”). The figure comes to closure as the second phrase of line 3c repeats the same (elliptical) syntactic structure. The integrating pattern can be schematized as AB/ BʹC/CʹCʹ: contiguous phrases are integrated across lines, but each line coheres (in its own way) as a distinct unit.7 The next line-grouping is the symmetrical line-pair 4a–b (with an elided verb in the second line), balanced by syllables (historically, 8:8). The line-pair is closed and stable. Line 4c begins the next line-grouping. We might organize line 4c as two parts of a somewhat symmetrical whole, though the Masoretic phrasing (1 +2 words) discourages this organization by highlighting the surface dissimilarity and imbalance between the clauses, rather than the potential symmetry. Segmentation into unequal parts tends to result in the integration of the whole, while segmentation into equal parts lessens the integration of the whole (instead strengthening the distinctness of the parts) (see Tsur 2017: 13, 23). That is, the phrasing (according to the MT) integrates or unifies the line as a whole (as 1 +2 words), rather than strengthening the parts of the line (2 words +2 words). According to the shapes of the Masoretic phrasing, the two clauses emerge as a unified line; the line coheres through semantic similarity.8 6. I.e., “praise him.” 7. Watson refers to exact repetition of words in this kind of patterning as a “terrace pattern” (2005: 208–9). The line-by-line integration in Ps 100:3, however, is not simply word repetition; the “C” integration is through ellipsis—an elided word depending on the previous syntactic structure. 8. For comparison, the reader can try out a mental performance of 4c–5c with different phrasing, without the maqqef in 4c, i.e., with two phrases of two prosodic words [ 228 ] Remaining Issues
Line 5a is integrated with 4c through the particle kî (“for”). The long-short line- pair of 4c–5a may feel somewhat unstable in a psalm that has, thus far, been characterized by equilibrium of its line-groupings.9 Certainly, the line-pair does not feel closed, as the preceding three line-groupings have. Furthermore, line 5b continues the preceding figure, by continuing the reason for the praise of 4c. (The Masoretic verse division reflects this semantic/pragmatic integration of 5a–c.) The psalm resolves the relative instability of the line-pair 4c–5a with another line-pair that is symmetrically arranged but markedly imbalanced. The short-long patterning of 5b–c brings restored stability to the long-short patterning of 4c–5a and integrates the two line-pairs into a larger four-line figure. The closure of the figure corresponds with the semantic closural allusion (“forever,” “steadfastness”), thus bringing closure to the whole psalm. We must hear the integrated line-groupings of Ps 100, not just its segregated lines, if we are to experience its shapes and rhythms and closure. Another important concept related to perceptual integration is integrity. Integrity refers to “the property of a system of which the parts are more obviously related to each other than to anything else outside that system” (Smith 1968: 23). Integrity is a property of wholes, not a property of parts. Thus, in the context of biblical poetry, we can speak of a line-grouping as having integrity: the parts (lines) of a line-grouping are more obviously related to each other (perceived aurally and temporally) than they are to lines of other line-groupings.10 This does not mean that lines of different line-groupings are unrelated or completely unintegrated (we have seen many examples to the contrary and will see more in this section), but rather that line-groupings are in 4c. This allows for the mental organization of 4c as a somewhat symmetrical line- pair. Because of the syntactic dependence of 5a on 4c, the expectation is then created for another symmetrical line-pair, a four-line symmetrical whole, A/Aʹ/B/Bʹ (cf. texts 5.34 and 5.35). Lines 5a and 5b, however, though semantically related, do not emerge as a symmetrical line-pair. Furthermore, this mental organization of the lines 4c–5c does not allow for the integration of line 5c in the emerging figure (in spite of its syntactic and semantic connectedness). 9. Although the successive lines of the line-triple 3a–c get shorter, the line-triple maintains equilibrium as it unfolds by syllable balance between 3a and 3b and word/ stress balance between 3b and 3c. 10. We can compare O’Connor’s principle of “syntactic integrity,” which he views as one of the fundamental results of all previous study: “If a line contains one or more clause predicators, it cannot contain a nominal constituent not dependent on one of them” (1997: 69, cf. 87, where it is stated positively). Song 2:7 is an example that contradicts this syntactic principle; see text 7.7. I am arguing, in contrast to O’Connor, that integrity (as a principle of part-whole perceptual processing) must be accounted for as a broader phenomenon than syntax, and that it is an essential property of the line-grouping, not necessarily the line. However, if a line is made of up clear parts (within the overarching whole of the line-grouping), it too can be a whole with integrity. Psalm 100:3c (text 7.1), e.g., is a line (of two elliptical clauses) that has integrity, and the two parts (clauses) hold together based on similarity, even though those two clauses rely on the previous clause (the second half of line 3b) for their elided subject.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 229 ]
perceivably distinct units of part-whole shapes. Nor should integrity be confused with completeness or closure (Smith 1968: 25); a line-grouping can have integrity without being complete or closed, as demonstrated by “open” line- groupings such as Mic 1:7a–c (text 6.11). The poetic craft of the integration of biblical line-groupings uses many different strategies from various aspects of language (e.g., semantics, syntax, phonology). How lines are integrated contributes not just to the structure but also to the “feel” of the poem. If we privilege one aspect of language over another in mental organization, we will likely miss this. Consider, for example, Song of Songs 6:4, a line-triple that begins a stanza. TEXT 7.2 yāpâ ʾatt raʿyātî kǝtirṣâ Beautiful (are) you, my-companion, as-Tirzah,
4a
יָתי ְּכ ִת ְר ָ֔צה ֙ ִ יָ ֙ ָפה ַ ֤א ְּת ַר ְע
nāʾwâ kîrûšālāim fair [(are) you], as-Jerusalem,
4b
ִירּוׁש ָל֑ם ָ או֖ה ִּכ ָ ָנ
ʾăyummâ kannidgālôt awesome [(are) you], as-those-arrayed-with-banners.11
4c
יֻּמה ַּכּנִ ְדּגָ ֽלֹות׃ ֖ ָ ֲא
The figure is integrated through multiple aspects of language. The three lines are clauses that are integrated syntactically through ellipsis of the subject (in lines 4b and 4c). Lines 4a and 4b are tightly integrated with respect to semantics, yet they are only partially symmetrical in (surface) syntax and they are imbalanced. (Ellipsis can integrate contiguous clauses through common syntactic structure or dis-integrate contiguous clauses by fragmented surface structure [see section 5.4]: it does both here.) Lines 4a and 4b are not a stable and thus closed symmetrical line-pair. Lines 4b and 4c are more integrated than 4a and 4b with respect to similarity of surface structure (prosodic phonology and surface syntax), yet they are less similar and thus less integrated with respect to meaning. This three-line figure as a whole has integrity: if we hear the multiple aspects of language integration, it does not break into either a 1 +2 grouping or a 2 +1 grouping. Yet it “feels” quite different from the stable line-groupings of Ps 100. The imbalance of lines 4a–b is not resolved with 4c: this figure (like many in the Song) is not striving for stability.12 The figure intensifies semantically in the third line, from the synonyms yāpâ/ nāʾwâ (“beautiful”/“fair”) in the first two lines to ʾăyummâ (“awesome,” or even
11. The participle kannidgālôt is definite and feminine plural; the antecedent is the two cities of 4a and 4b. 12. See, e.g., the non-symmetry in Song 1:2a–3a and 1:7a–c. Song of Songs typically avoids strong symmetries. [ 230 ] Remaining Issues
“terrifying”). It achieves this intensity in line 4c with remarkable terseness and restraint (in contrast to the many words in the English translation). The building intensity then bursts with the man’s words in the next figure (5a– b): hāsēbbî ʿênayik minnegdî / šehēm hirhîbūnî (“Turn your-eyes from-before- me, /for-they embolden-me!”).13 Thus, the integration of a line-grouping is potentially impacted by any aspect of language, and we must listen for integration of all kinds if we are to experience the complexity of biblical poetry. We cannot prioritize syntax in poetic structure, yet syntax still plays a unique role in integration in verbal art, because of the syntactic-semantic relationships between constituents in language. In everyday language, we use syntax to integrate utterances, which may involve bringing related elements closer together:14 (a) The boy was twisting balloon animals. The boy plays oboe. (b) The boy, who plays oboe, was twisting balloon animals. (c) The girl really loves plants. And also, the girl really loves books. (d) The girl really loves plants and also books. Similarly, in biblical poetry, word order has the potential to integrate or segregate syntactic components of a sentence. For example, the subject- verb (or subject-predicate) relationship is the basic and essential unifying relationship of a clause. In Biblical Hebrew, if a subject precedes a verb, other constituents of the predicate typically follow the verb. That is, typical subject-initial word order is S-V-O or S-V-PP, not S-O-V or S-PP-V.15 This allows for the integration of the subject with the verb, the basic relationship of the clause, as well as the integration of the verb with the rest of the predicate. The integration or segregation of syntactic components of a sentence due to word order, like other shapes of language, has the potential to contextually affect the part-whole relationships of poetic structure (lines and line-groupings). In section 6.3 we saw that grammatical requiredness can strengthen the closure of poetic units through postponement of a required element, thereby
13. With Garrett (2004: 228), hirhîbunî should be translated “embolden” here (cf. the hiphil in Ps 138:3), not “overwhelm” or “make ashamed.” I read 5a–b as a continuation of the emotion expressed through the image of 4c. (Most commentators derive the meaning of this image from a connection with Song 4:9; see Pope 1977: 564–65.) The point of unfurled banners or standards is not simply to intimidate attackers but to inspire loyalty and bravery for a city. The man is “emboldened” by the awesome woman at this point in the Song because he is allied to her: he is at peace with her (Song 8:10). 14. Cf. the Gestalt discussions of language in Tsur 2008: 7, 118–19. 15. For an analysis of syntactic and pragmatic preposing in biblical Hebrew narrative, see Moshavi 2010. For a study of pragmatic and poetic word-order variation in biblical Hebrew poetry, see Lunn 2006.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 231 ]
effecting or strengthening the emergence of whole units. For example, a subject strongly requires a verb (both syntactically and semantically), and a postponed, clause-final verb may thus strengthen the unity of a line (as in Judg 5:17a, text 6.27, with S-PP-V order). In examples such as these, the integration of the subject-verb relationship is preserved within the line, in spite of the marked word order. The same marked word order in another context may, however, dis-integrate the subject-predicate relationship, by separating the subject from the verb— and thereby strengthening the distinct parts of the clause. Word order by itself does not determine the lines that emerge in biblical poetry. It is the structure of the whole that determines the emergence of the parts. In the following example from Jonah 2:4d–e (ET 2:3d–e), the word order is likewise S-PP-V, but in this context, the line structure emerges as S /PP V (two lines). TEXT 7.3 kol-mišbārêkā wǝgallêkā All~your-breakers and-your-waves
4d
ל־מ ְׁש ָּב ֶ ֥ריָך וְ גַ ֶּל֖יָך ִ ָּכ
ʿālay ʿābārû over-me passed.
4e
ָע ַ ֥לי ָע ָ ֽברּו׃
The reason that this clause emerges as a line-grouping of two strong parts (rather than a unified line) is twofold. First, the two phrases of the clause (corresponding with the subject and predicate of the clause) are distinct prosodic shapes that are strengthened by the similarity of sounds within each phrase (discussed as text 4.9). The marked word order of 4e draws the initial ʿā- syllables of ʿālay and ʿābārû closer together in proximity (compare the unmarked V-PP word order) even as it separates the subject from the verb. (I.e., similarity/proximity of sounds and words within phrases competes with grammatical requiredness within the whole in the emerging line structure.) The shapes of the phrases are thus strengthened as parts of the whole. Second, prosodic segmentation of a text into equal (or near-equal) parts tends to strengthen the parts, while segmentation into quite unequal parts tends to result in increased integration of the parts (increasing the unity of the whole), unless the organization of the whole precludes it (Tsur 2017: 13, 23). In the examples in section 6.3 in which the marked word order strengthens the unity of the line, the prosodic segmentation of the lines results in unequal components. Here, the parts are equally weighted, with two accents/words per prosodic phrase (according to the Masoretic phrasing). Similarly, in Jonah 2:9a–b (ET 2:8a–b), it is both the structure of the whole and the prosodic segmentation that allows the constituent order (S-O-V ) to contribute to the dis-integration of the subject from the predicate and thus the emergence of two lines rather than one.
[ 232 ] Remaining Issues
TEXT 7.4 mǝšammǝrîm hablê-šāwʾ Those-who-hold-to idols-of~emptiness
9a
י־ׁשוְ א ֑ ָ ְמ ַׁש ְּמ ִ ֖רים ַה ְב ֵל
ḥasdām yaʿăzōbû their-mercy forsake.
9b
ַח ְס ָ ּ֖דם יַ ֲע ֹֽזבּו׃
The whole divides into two equally weighted prosodic segments (of two accents/words, according to the Masoretic phrasing). Within the whole, a chiastic symmetry emerges: lines 9a and 9b, although comprising one complete clause, are patterned with semantic contrast within a grammatical symmetry. Line 9a, the subject of the clause, is a participial phrase, composed of a participle and its object. Line 9b is the predicate of the clause, the object followed by a verb. The (surface) chiastic pattern of V O /O V thus emerges in the line- pair, with a correspondence between the semantically opposite verbal roots, š-m-r (“hold to”) and ʿ-z-b (“forsake”).16 As in Jonah 2:4d–e, the word order of the second line both strengthens the patterned emergence of the parts and also dis-integrates the larger subject-predicate relationship, so that the whole line-grouping emerges with two parts/lines.17 Communicative language is dependent upon the integration brought about by syntax. Biblical poetry makes use of this inherent syntactic integration 16. This discussion of the effect of word order on integration (and thus on poetic structure) is not at odds with pragmatic explanations for word order, nor does it require us to view word order as an either/or situation of pragmatics or poetic structure. The fronting of ḥasdām (“their-mercy”) before its verb in Jonah 2:9b has an “emphatic” contrastive (or antithetical) function in the chiasm (cf. Moshavi 2010: 19–20), which we can translate, “their own mercy they forsake.” But the same word order is also integrally related to perception of poetic line structure. In Jonah 2:4e, based on context, it seems less clear that ʿālay (“over-me”) would be heard with an “emphatic” or marked pragmatic function. (On the problems of emphasis-centered models, see Moshavi 2010: 18–19.) 17. For another example, see 2 Sam 1:24, in which the marked word order of 24b strengthens 24b as a distinct line. The word order of 24a–b (Voc /PP V) separates the vocative (bǝnôt yiśrāʾēl, “daughters-of Israel”) from the imperative (bǝkênâ, “weep”), weakening the grammatical unity between the two (two-word) phrases of 24a–b. Within the two-line whole is a subtle chiastic symmetry of sounds: bǝnôt yiśrāʾēl ʾel- šāʾûl bǝkênâ. The marked word order also results in the separation/dis-integration of the modifying participial construction in 24c from šāʾûl (“Saul”). Thus, line 24b is strengthened as a distinct unit in relation to both 24a and 24c. The four-line figure emerges as two balanced line-pairs. bǝnôt yiśrāʾēl Daughters-of Israel, ʾel-šāʾûl bǝkênâ for~Saul weep, hammalbiškem šānî ʿim-ʿădānîm who-clothed-you (in)-scarlet with~luxuries, hammaʿălê ʿădî zāhāb ʿal lǝbûšǝken who-put ornaments-of gold on your-clothing.
24a
נֹות יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ֔אל ֙ ְּב
24b
ל־ׁש ֖אּול ְּב ֶכ֑ינָ ה ָ ֶא
24c
ם־ע ָד ִ֔נים ֲ ַה ַּמ ְל ִ ּֽב ְׁש ֶכ֤ם ָׁשנִ ֙י ִע
24d
בּוׁש ֶ ֽכן׃ ְ ַ ֽה ַּמ ֲע ֶל ֙ה ֲע ִ ֣די זָ ָ֔הב ַ ֖על ְל
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 233 ]
in poetic structure. Yet, as we have seen, biblical poetry also has ways to weaken syntactic integration and to strengthen other shapes of language. The strengthening of other language shapes may result in more strongly segregated (and dis-integrated) syntactic components (such as the subjects and predicates in Jonah 2:4d–e and 9a–b). But the strengthening of other (non- syntactic) shapes can also result in shapes that compete with syntactic shapes, such as a mismatch between syntax and symmetry (Judg 5:6, text 5.41) or a mismatch between similar sounds and phrasing/syntax. As an example of the latter, recall Psalm 1:1 (text 4.18), in which the similar sounds of line 1a exploit a minor phrasing space, going against the syntactic shapes: TEXT 7.5 ʾašǝrê-hāʾîš ʾăšer Happy~the-man who
1a
י־ה ִ֗איׁש ֲא ֶ ׁ֤שר׀ ָ ַ ֥א ְ ֽׁש ֵר
lōʾ hālak baʿăṣat rǝšāʿîm does-not walk in-counsel-of wicked
1b
֥ל ֹא ָה ַל ְ֘ך ַּב ֲע ַצ֪ת ְר ָׁ֫ש ִ ֥עים
ûbǝderek ḥaṭṭāʾîm lōʾ ʿāmād and-in-way-of sinners does-not stand
1c
ּוב ֶ ֣ד ֶרְך ַ ֭ח ָּט ִאים ֥ל ֹא ָע ָ ֑מד ְ
ûbǝmôšab lēṣîm lōʾ yāšāb and-in-seat-of scoffers does-not sit.
1d
מֹוׁשב ֜ ֵל ִ֗צים ֣ל ֹא יָ ָ ֽׁשב׃ ֥ ַ ּוב ְ
We also saw this kind of mismatch between sounds and syntax in Isaiah 24:17 (text 4.7): TEXT 7.6 paḥad wāpaḥat wāpāḥ Terror and-pit and-trap
17a
ַ ּ֥פ ַחד וָ ַ ֖פ ַחת וָ ָ ֑פח
ʿālêkā yôšēb hāʾāreṣ (are) upon-you, inhabitant-of the-earth!
17b
יֹוׁשב ָה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ֥ ֵ ָע ֶל֖יָך
Another example comes from Song of Songs 2:7: TEXT 7.7 hišbaʿtî ʾetkem bǝnôt yǝrûšālaim I-adjure you, daughters-of Jerusalem,
7a
ִרּוׁש ַל ֙ם ָ֙ ְִה ְׁש ַּ֙ב ְע ִּתי ֶא ְת ֶ֜כם ְּבנ֤ ֹות י
biṣbāʾôt ʾô bǝʾaylôt haśśādê by-gazelles, or by-does-of the-field:
7b
ִּב ְצ ָב ֔אֹות ֖אֹו ְּב ַאיְ ֣לֹות ַה ָּׂש ֶ ֑דה
ʾim-tāʿîrû wǝʾim-tǝʿôrǝrû Do-not~wake and-do-not~rouse
7c
ם־ּת ֽע ְֹור ֛רּו ְ ם־ּת ִ ֧עירּו׀ ְ ֽו ִא ָ ִא
ʾet-hāʾahăbâ ʿad šetteḥpāṣ ‹o.m.›~love until it-pleases!
7d
ת־ה ַא ֲה ָ ֖בה ַ ֥עד ֶׁש ֶּת ְח ָ ּֽפץ׃ ס ָ ֶא
[ 234 ] Remaining Issues
I have lineated Song 2:7 according to the strong line-internal sound-meaning similarities that create the shapes of 7b and 7c, and also according to the sound similarities within 7d.18 In 7b and especially in 7d (where the object is separated from the verb), the syntactic shapes pull beyond the cohering sound-meaning shapes of 7a and 7c.19 Each of these three line-groupings has in common the competition of shapes from different aspects of language, but the particular effects of the mismatched shapes are highly contextual. Isaiah 24:17 seems (to my ear) particularly disjointed, dissonant, and disturbing, while Ps 1:1a flows into the rest of its line-grouping, with its highly organized structure. The qualitatively different predominant sounds in Isa 24:17a and Ps 1:1a surely contribute to the different contextual effects. Song 2:7, at the end of a stanza, stands out from the relatively short lines that come before it: the preceding lines are mostly two-or three-word independent clauses, while 2:7 is a lengthy and complex sentence (with the gravity of an oath). These lines almost sound prosaic, yet the organization of shapes by sounds and meaning, and the interplay with syntax, achieves the structure and rhythm of poetry. The effects of biblical poetry are integrally related to the shapes—how strong or weak they are, whether they compete or correspond, how different aspects of language interact—but the effects cannot be predicted based on any single aspect of form (here, e.g., the competition of phrasing or syntax with non-syntactic shapes). They must be experienced contextually. Contrary to common usage in biblical studies, it is not appropriate to call any of these overlapping or competing shapes in biblical poetry “enjambment,” with the baggage the term carries over from metrical and post-metrical traditions with regard to structure and effects.20 Enjambment is the running over of a sentence from one poetic unit into another, in contrast to “end-stopped” lines.21 It presumes a line-end that is fixed, with lines that are mentally organized in relation to a template or in relation to the visual layout on the page. Yet as we have seen, biblical poetic lines do not emerge in these ways, nor do they emerge line by line. The lines of biblical poetry emerge in relation to each other within the line-grouping, which must have integrity as a whole in order for poetic structure to be organized. Within the line-grouping different shapes
18. Especially because of the context of the line-internal similarities in 7b and 7c, the object marker (which is infrequently used in terse lines of biblical poetry) potentially contributes to the sound similarities in 7d: ʾet-hāʾahăbâ ʿad šetteḥpāṣ. 19. This line-grouping is repeated in Song 3:5, and variations occur in 5:8 and 8:4. The line structures of the variations can be heard in relation to the line structure of 2:7 (=3:5). Notice that 2:7d contradicts O’Connor’s principle of syntactic integrity. Many commentators put the line boundary of 7c–d after ʾet-hāʾahăbâ, “love.” 20. See, e.g., Dobbs-Allsopp 2001a and 2001b; James 2022: 64–69. 21. In English poetry, enjambment and its effects cannot be reduced solely to syntactic continuation; see Tsur 2008: 140–54; and Gerber 2015.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 235 ]
of language may converge, overlap, or compete, but lines do not “spill over” line-ends. The concept of enjambment, because it derives from metrical and visual poetries, focuses disproportionately on how one line ends and another begins, not on how the whole figure emerges. To understand and describe what is going on biblical poetry, we need to use descriptions and terminology (such as shapes and integration) that are consistent with the emergence of lines in relation to each other.22 Furthermore, the terminology of shapes and integration applies not just to line-groupings; it also allows us to understand and describe what happens at structural levels of biblical poetry higher than the line and line-grouping. In Song of Songs 7:12–13 (ET 7:11–12), the shapes of line-groupings overlap, diminishing the integrity of potential line-pairs and line-triples. TEXT 7.8 lǝkâ dôdî nēṣēʾ haśśādê Come, my-beloved, let-us-go-out (to) the-country,
12a
דֹוד֙י נֵ ֵצ֣א ַה ָּׂש ֶ ֔דה ִ ְל ָ ֤כה
nālînâ bakkǝpārîm let-us-lodge in-the-villages,23
12b
נָ ִ ֖לינָ ה ַּב ְּכ ָפ ִ ֽרים׃
naškîmâ lakkǝrāmîm let-us-start-early for-the-vineyards,
13a
ימ ֙ה ַל ְּכ ָר ִ֔מים ָ נַ ְׁש ֙ ִּכ
nirʾê ʾim pārǝḥâ haggepen let-us-see whether has-budded the-vine,24
13b
נִ ְר ֶ֞אה ִאם ָ ּֽפ ְר ָ ֤חה ַהּגֶ֙ ֶ ֙פן
pittaḥ hassǝmādar has-opened the-blossom,
13c
ִּפ ַ ּ֣תח ַה ְּס ָמ ַ ֔דר
hēnēṣû hārimmônîm have-bloomed the-pomegranates.
13d
ּמֹונ֑ים ִ ֵה ֵנ֖צּו ָה ִר
šām ʾettēn ʾet-dōday lāk There I-will-give ‹o.m.›~my-love to-you.
13e
ָ ׁ֛שם ֶא ֵ ּ֥תן ֶאת־ּד ַ ֹ֖די ָ ֽלְך׃
What exactly are the line- groupings that organize these lines? With the Masoretic verse division, the first two lines seem to be integrated semantically (especially if kǝpārîm is understood as “villages”). Lines 13a–c are integrated semantically with regard to the vineyard (bud break in 13b and flowering in 13c), while 13c and 13d are integrated with respect to fruit blossoms (grapes 22. For a cognitive description of aspects of enjambment in metrical poetry, see Tsur 2008: 140–49. 23. Alternatively, according to a different meaning of kǝpārîm, “spend the night in the henna bushes” (see HALOT 1: 495). Śādê refers to the open field or the country: either the lovers are sheltering in a small village in the country or camping out. 24. I.e., “whether the vine has budded”; likewise in lines 13c and 13d. [ 236 ] Remaining Issues
and pomegranates). But integration occurs in 12a–13d through other aspects of language besides semantics. Lines 12b and 13a are integrated through surface structure of sounds, morphology, and syntax. Lines 13b–d are integrated through syntax. In comparison to the other lines, line 13e is relatively unintegrated. As these lines unfold—and they do unfold perceptibly as lines in relation to each other—there are no line-pairs or line-triples that emerge with clear integrity. Specifically, there is no clear sense that line 13a is more related to what precedes than what follows, or that 13b is more related to what precedes than what follows.25 It depends on what shifting shape of language you listen to. Instead, the integrated but changing system of lines keeps growing larger until change (non-integration) finally comes with the relatively unintegrated line 13e, which closes the seven-line figure. We can describe line 13e as relatively unintegrated in the overlapping shapes of lines in 12a–13d, yet line 13e is absolutely integral to the seven-line figure.26 Line 13e is what brings the shifting shapes to closure, thus effecting the whole that otherwise remains nebulous. Unintegrated lines, though relatively infrequent, occur within the part- whole versification system of biblical poetry, and they are often integral to a larger whole. We have seen multiple examples of unintegrated lines (clearly segregated line-units that do not belong to a line-grouping) that are integral to the poem to which they belong and function contextually in various ways (Judg 5:11e, text 6.26; Jonah 2:10c, text 6.5; the envelope structure in Ps 146– 50, text 6.16; Ps 150:6a, text 6.16). It is important to note that these single or unintegrated lines are not, simply on account of their form, discourse markers that signal a particular function, such as the end of a poem or stanza.27 How unintegrated lines function depends on how they emerge in context—in relation to the local shapes of sounds and words and in relation to the whole poem. For example, a line-pair that is unintegrated in a stanza can function similarly to a line that is unintegrated in a line-grouping, in bringing closure to a poem (compare Judg 5:31a–b with Jonah 2:10c [ET 2:9c] and Exod 15:18). Beyond the basic segregation of lines and integration of line-groupings, the listener/reader of a biblical poem must achieve the mental organization of the poem as a whole. A poem of relatively closed and stable symmetrical line-pairs (e.g., Num 23:7–10) must still be heard as integrated. Many longer poems
25. Although each line is integrated to a degree with what precedes, there is no clear patterning that emerges, in contrast, e.g., to the patterned integration of Ps 100:3a–c (text 7.1). The shapes of Song 7:12–13 are integrated, but not in a specific patterned way. 26. What is the antecedent of “there” (šām) in 13e? It might be the closest preceding possible antecedent, which would be the vineyards of line 13a. Given the structure of the whole seven-line figure, with the integration of lines 12a–13d and the closure in 13e, we may make a more convincing case that “there” could be heard as referring back to the opening line, “Come . . . let’s go out to the country” (12a). 27. Contrast Watson 2005: 168–74.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 237 ]
have line-groupings that are integrated into stanzas (e.g., Judg 5); other longer poems have line-groupings that are integrated into poems without stanzas (e.g., Deut 32). Some poetic works (e.g., the book of Micah) integrate stanzas into larger units of structure. Integration is an important part of the artistry of biblical poetry, from the line up to the whole poem. The remainder of this section provides specific examples of the artistry of integration in biblical poems. This is a vast topic that is better studied in the context of the artistry of whole poems or whole books, and the following examples, from Isaiah and the Song of Songs, are merely samples of this artistry. We have seen poetic passages in which a relatively less integrated first line of a figure sets up the expectation for further patterned integration, as in the A/[Aʹ/Bʹ]/B patterning begun by Judges 5:19a (text 5.37) or the A/B/Bʹ/ Aʹ patterning begun by Deuteronomy 33:2a (text 5.39). That is, an initially less integrated line may prompt the listener/reader to expect and thus resolve the integration of the whole line-grouping through larger symmetrical patterning. In the following example from Isaiah 11:1–5, however, the relatively unintegrated line (3a) is not resolved in this way. Rather, I will argue, the lack of integration of the line contributes to the integration of the larger passage. The relatively unintegrated line (3a) has presented many challenges for interpretation: both how to understand the meaning of the line (especially the first word) and how the line fits into the larger passage. Shifman (2012) provides an overview and careful evaluation of various interpretative approaches over the centuries. The observations entailed in these approaches highlight many of the aspects of the artistry of this passage, and I draw upon them here.28 TEXT 7.9 wǝyāṣāʾ ḥōṭer miggēzaʿ yišāy 1a And-will-go-out a-shoot from-the-stem-of Jesse,
וְ יָ ָ ֥צא ֖חֹ ֶטר ִמ ֵּג�֣זַ ע יִ ָ ׁ֑שי
wǝnēṣer miššorāšāyw yiprê and-a-sprout from-its-roots will-be-fruitful.
1b
וְ ֵנ ֶ֖צר ִמ ָּׁש ָר ָ ׁ֥שיו יִ ְפ ֶ ֽרה׃
wǝnāḥâ ʿālāyw rûaḥ yhwh And-will-rest on-him the-spirit-of YHWH,
2a
הו֑ה ָ ְוְ נָ ָ ֥חה ָע ָ ֖ליו ֣ר ַּוח י
rûaḥ ḥokmâ ûbînâ a-spirit-of wisdom and-understanding,
2b
ּוב ָ֗ינה ִ ֧ר ַּוח ָח ְכ ָ ֣מה
rûaḥ ʿēṣâ ûgǝbûrâ a-spirit-of counsel and-might,
2c
בּורה ֔ ָ ְ֤ר ַּוח ֵע ָצ ֙ה ּוג
28. Because line 3a is difficult to interpret, it is often emended in part or taken completely out of the text as dittography (thus BHS; for the various emendations that have been proposed, see Shifman 2012: 242). Shifman views these emendations, which lack manuscript evidence, as unfounded (243). As the discussion here demonstrates, the removal of a line affects the whole of the poetic unit: the reader can listen to the text with and without the line for comparison. [ 238 ] Remaining Issues
rûaḥ daʿat wǝyirʾat yhwh a-spirit-of knowledge and-fear-of YHWH.
2d
הוה׃ ֽ ָ ְ֥ר ַּוח ַ ּ֖ד ַעת וְ יִ ְר ַ ֥את י
wahărîḥô bǝyirʾat yhwh And-his-smelling/discernment29 (will be) in/ by-the-fear-of YHWH,
3a
הו֑ה ָ ְיחֹו ְּביִ ְר ַ ֣את י ֖ וַ ֲה ִר
wǝlōʾ-lǝmarʾê ʿênāyw yišpôṭ and-not~according-to-what-is-seen-by his-eyes will-he-judge,
3b
א־ל ַמ ְר ֵ ֤אה ֵעינָ ֙יו יִ ְׁש ּ֔פֹוט ְ ֹ וְ ֽל
wǝlōʾ-lǝmišmaʿ ʾoznāyw yôkîaḥ 3c and-not~according-to-what-is-heard-by his-ears will-he-decide.
יֹוכ ַיח׃ ֽ ִ א־ל ִמ ְׁש ַ ֥מע ָאזְ ָנ֖יו ְ ֹ וְ ֽל
וְ ָׁש ַ ֤פט ְּב ֙ ֶצ ֶד ֙ק ַּד ֔ ִּלים
wǝšāpaṭ bǝṣedeq dallîm And-he-will-judge with-rightness lowly-ones,
4a
wǝhôkîaḥ bǝmîšôr lǝʿanwê-ʾāreṣ and-he-will-decide with-fairness for-poor-ones-of~earth;
4b י־א ֶרץ ֑ ָ ֵיׁשֹור ְל ַענְ ו ֖ הֹוכ ַיח ְּב ִמ ֥ ִ ְו
wǝhikkâ-ʾereṣ bǝšēbeṭ pîw and-he-will-smite~earth with-the-rod-of his-mouth,
4c
ׁש ֶבט ֔ ִּפיו ֣ ֵ ה־א ֶר ֙ץ ְּב ֶ֙ וְ ִ ֽה ָּכ
ûbǝrûaḥ śǝpātāyw yāmît rāšāʿ and-with-the-breath-of his-lips he-will-kill wicked.
4d
יָמית ָר ָ ֽׁשע׃ ֥ ִ ּוב ֥ר ַּוח ְׂש ָפ ָ ֖תיו ְ
wǝhāyâ ṣedeq ʾēzôr motnāyw And-will-be rightness the-belt-of his-hips,
5a
וְ ָ ֥היָ ה ֶצ ֶ֖דק ֵאז֣ ֹור ָמ ְת ָנ֑יו
wǝhāʾĕmûnâ ʾēzôr ḥălāṣāyw and-steadfastness the-belt-of his-loins.
5b
מּונ֖ה ֵאז֥ ֹור ֲח ָל ָ ֽציו׃ ָ וְ ָה ֱא
In the translation, two words are in bold: smelling/discernment (3a) and breath (4d). It is impossible to reflect in English translation the similarity of 29. The suffixed hiphil infinitive construct hărîḥô is from the root r-y-ḥ, which in the hiphil typically means “to smell.” Though similar to the root of the noun rûaḥ (“spirit, breath”) used in this passage in vv. 2 and 4, the two roots are distinct, and rûaḥ (unlike the root r-y-ḥ) appears only as a noun in biblical Hebrew, not as a verb (Shifman 2012: 245). Lines 33a–c share words of sensing: smelling, seeing, hearing. The hiphil of r-y-ḥ here is best understood as being used in an extended way to mean “sensing” or “discerning” (248). The verb is used similarly in other contexts: of horses “sniffing/ smelling,” i.e., sensing, a battle (Job 39:25) and a thread being snapped when it “smells,” i.e., “senses,” fire by coming too close to it, before it even touches it (Judg 16:9). A special metaphorical meaning here, “delight” (thus NRSV and many translations) based on Amos 5:21, is unnecessary: Amos 5:21–22 refers to YHWH’s refusal to “sniff/smell” or take in Israel’s religious assemblies.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 239 ]
these two words (hărîḥô, rûaḥ). The word rûaḥ (“wind, breath, spirit”) is also used four times in v. 2 (translated “spirit”). The two words, hărîḥô (“smelling”) and rûaḥ (“spirit/breath”), have similar verbal roots and share the semantic notion of respiration (see n29). The use and repetition of these words contributes to the integration of the passage. One important way is that the “smelling/sniffing” of v. 3, an act of inhaling, finds its semantic corollary in the image of “the breath of his lips” of line 4d, an act of exhaling.30 The passage begins with a line-pair (1a–b). In spite of the similarities between the lines and their balance (by historical syllables, 8:8), the line-pair is not symmetrical, by words or syntax or meaning. Line 1b builds semantically upon line 1a: this is not just a shoot coming out of a hewn stump (a common enough occurrence) but a substantial one that is actually capable of bearing fruit.31 Yet the balance and similarities between the lines contribute to the equilibrium of the line-pair. The initial line-pair is followed by a line-four (2a–d). Although the syntactic shape of the line-four results in a somewhat unintegrated figure (1 +3), the four-line figure as a whole is integrated through the repetition of “YHWH”: it occurs at the end of the first line (2a) and at the end of the fourth line (2d). This gives a somewhat symmetrical organization to the figure, which is strengthened by the balance (long-short-short-long) achieved by line 2d that effects the emergence of the whole and closes the figure. Line 3a begins a new line-grouping, although the similarity of hărîḥô (“smelling/discernment”) to rûaḥ (“breath”) and the repetition of the phrase yirʾat yhwh (“fear-of YHWH”) integrates 3a with 2d. The meaning of the opaque line 3a is elucidated by lines 3b and 3c: this shoot of Jesse (Davidic ruler) will not judge by human seeing and hearing, which is limited, but by discernment (hărîḥô, “smelling”) according to the fear of YHWH, which is a result of the spirit (rûaḥ, “breath”) of YHWH that rests upon him (v. 2). Lines 3b and 3c elucidate 3a, but they also—owing to the precise symmetry of the pair—lessen the integration of the whole line-triple, which emerges as a grouping of 1 line +2 lines, 30. On this connection in relation to how the passage has been interpreted, see Shifman 2012: 246–47. While I do not view inhaling as the primary meaning or best translation of hărîḥô, as some interpreters have, I do view the semantic shape of inhalation/exhalation as part of the verbal artistry of the passage. 31. Many scholars emend the final word of line 1b, yiprê (“be fruitful”), to yipraḥ (“to sprout”). In unpointed Hebrew, the difference is minor, from יפרהto יפרח, and there is support for this reading in the versions (see Blenkinsopp 2000: 263). The decisive factor for modern evaluation of the Hebrew text, it seems, is achieving better parallelism between lines 1a and 1b. The emendation toward “parallelism,” however, does not result in a better (or even more typical) poetic line-pair. Though the reading yipraḥ (“to sprout”) results in more semantic similarity between the lines, it does not make them symmetrical in form: V S PP does not symmetrically correspond with S PP V. Nor does the prosodic phrasing allow the constituents to be grouped together for chiastic organization: (V S) PP does not correspond with S (PP V). [ 240 ] Remaining Issues
or A/B/B patterning, without equilibrium.32 The line-triple does not close but is part of a larger expanding figure: line 4a repeats the “judging” (šāpaṭ) of 3b, and line 4b repeats the “deciding” (hôkîaḥ) of 3c. Lines 4a and 4b, like 3b and 3c, emerge as a symmetrical line-pair (balanced according to the Masoretic prosodic words), yet they too do not become a closed line-grouping: “earth” (ʾāreṣ) in 4b adds a slight asymmetry to the line-pair, broadening the semantic image and weakening the closure. This word/image is picked up by 4c, integrating 4c with 4b, even as 4c shifts the focus from the ruler’s fair judgments for the lowly (4a–b) to his punishment of the wicked (4c–d). Lines 4c and 4d emerge as a strongly symmetrical chiastic line-pair (through syntax and prosodic phrases): at last a line-grouping is allowed to reach closure. (Chiastic symmetry, in form, is inherently closed.) The semantic development within the symmetrical line-pair is integral to the shape of the passage: the smiting of the earth (where the oppressed also dwell) results in the killing of the wicked, and the instrument of smiting, the rod of the ruler’s mouth, finds its correspondence in “the breath (rûaḥ) of his lips.” This rûaḥ (“breath, spirit”) puts an end to the wicked. It is the same rûaḥ of YHWH that has rested on this ruler (v. 2) and thus enables him to both discern with fairness (3a) and execute judgment (4a–b). As already mentioned, the culminating act of this ruler, judgment by the rûaḥ (“breath”) of his lips, is imaged as an act of exhalation. Whereas the poetic subunit began in 3a with an unresolved unintegrated line and an act of inhalation (hărîḥô, “sniffing/smelling”), the subunit resolves in 4d with a line- pair that is allowed to reach closure and an act of exhalation. (The following two lines, 5a–b, which close the stanza, emerge as another closed symmetrical line-pair.) Lines 3a–4d thus emerge as a larger unit made up of smaller line- groupings. It is the absence of closure of the first two line-groupings (3a–c and 4a–b) that contributes to the integration of the larger figure, lines 3a–4d. That is, the relative lack of integration of line 3a in its line-triple functions indirectly to strengthen the integration of the larger whole of 3a–4d as the text unfolds. Furthermore, this larger shape (the subunit 3a–4d) corresponds with the artful shape of inhalation and exhalation in the passage. A different example of the artistry of line integration in Isaiah comes from the opening lines of the book. Here is the first poetic unit in Isaiah, 1:2–4: TEXT 7.10 šimʿû šāmayim Listen, O-heavens,
2a
ִׁש ְמ ֤עּו ָׁש ַ֙מ ֙יִם
32. Chiastic ABBA line-grouping patterns (e.g., Deut 33:2, text 5.39, cf. the eight-line chiasm of Judg 5:4–5, text 5.40) set up the expectation for the second A line through the internal structures of the lines, but this text does not set up such an expectation. This is not a thwarted symmetry but an open figure.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 241 ]
wǝhaʾăzînî ʾereṣ and-hear, O-earth,
2b
וְ ַה ֲא ִז֣ינִ י ֶ֔א ֶרץ
kî yhwh dibbēr for YHWH has-spoken!
2c
הו֖ה ִּד ֵ ּ֑בר ָ ְִ ּ֥כי י
bānîm giddaltî wǝrômamtî Children have-I-raised and-brought-up,
2d
רֹומ ְמ ִּתי ַ֔ ְָּבנִ ֙ים ּגִ ַ ּ֣ד ְל ִּתי ו
wǝhēm pāšǝʿû bî and-they have-rebelled against-me.
2e
וְ ֵ ֖הם ָ ּ֥פ ְׁשעּו ִ ֽבי׃
yādaʿ šôr qōnēhû Knows an-ox his-owner,
3a
ׁשֹור ק ֵֹ֔נהּו ֙ יָ ַ ֥דע
waḥămôr ʾēbûs bǝʿālāyw 3b and-[knows]-a-donkey the-manger-of his-master.
וַ ֲח ֖מֹור ֵא ֣בּוס ְּב ָע ָל֑יו
yiśrāʾēl lōʾ yādaʿ Israel does-not know,
3c
יִ ְׂש ָר ֵאל֙ ֣ל ֹא יָ ַ ֔דע
ʿammî lōʾ hitbônān my-people does-not understand.
3d
ּבֹונ�ֽן׃ ָ ַע ִ ּ֖מי ֥ל ֹא ִה ְת
hôy gôy ḥōṭēʾ Alas, nation sinning,
4a
֣הֹוי׀ ּג֣ ֹוי ח ֵֹ֗טא
ʿam kebed ʿāwōn people heavy-of guilt,
4b
ַ ֚עם ֶּכ ֶ֣בד ָעֹו֔ן
zeraʿ mǝrēʿîm offspring doing-evil,
4c
ֶז ַ�֣רע ְמ ֵר ֔ ִעים
bānîm mašḥîtîm children acting-corruptly!
4d
יתים ֑ ִ ָּב ִנ֖ים ַמ ְׁש ִח
ʿāzǝbû ʾet-yhwh They-have-forsaken ‹o.m.›~YHWH,
4e
הוה ֗ ָ ְָעזְ ֣בּו ֶאת־י
niʾăṣû ʾet-qǝdôš yiśrāʾēl 4f they-have-spurned ‹o.m.›~the-Holy-One-of Israel,
ת־ק ֥דֹוׁש יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֖אל ְ ִ ֽנ ֲא ֛צּו ֶא
nāzōrû ʾāḥôr they-are-turned33 backward!
4g
נָ ֹ֥זרּו ָא ֽחֹור׃
The poetry of Isaiah begins with three short clauses. The segregation of the first two clauses as lines is strengthened by the cohering sound similarities in 2a (šimʿû šāmayim) and 2b (historically: *wahaʾzini ʾarṣ). These two clauses emerge as a strongly symmetrical line-pair. The third clause is syntactically dependent upon them through the particle kî (“for”). The third line is integrated with the symmetrical pair, but no fourth line follows to make this A/ 33. Or, “estranged” (HALOT 1: 267). [ 242 ] Remaining Issues
A/B pattern into an A/A/B/B symmetry. Instead, the figure stands as a syncopated shape of 2 lines +1 line. The book of Isaiah begins with a destabilizing three-line figure that abruptly demands our attention (thus the exclamation mark in translation) and sets the tone for what is coming.34 The problem is YHWH’s rebellious children (2d–e). The ox and donkey put them to shame: not only do the children not know their master; they do not even know where he feeds them (3a–d).35 The children are acting corruptly (4a– d) and have forsaken YHWH (4e–f ). The problem of rebellion is described from 3a to 4e through four line-pairs that are strongly symmetrical and balanced. The balance tips in 4f, however: the line-pair 4e–f is symmetrical but imbalanced (short-long). This lack of equilibrium is resolved by line 4g: even though line 4g is outside of the symmetry of 4e–f, it can be integrated with 4e–f through the line-initial third-person masculine plural verb, as well as through the balance that it restores to the emerging three-line figure (short-long-short). On the one hand, 4e–g takes the form of A/A/B, like 2a–c, and the B lines of both figures may be experienced as prominent, since they stand out with a degree of unintegration from the preceding A lines. On the other hand, 4e–g is quite different from 2a–c because the nature of the integration of the line-triples is different. The line-triple 4e–g emerges as stable; 2a–c does not. The line-triple 2a–c opens the book with destabilization that grabs our attention; 4e–g closes the first poetic unit through change (the imbalance of 4e–f ) followed by restored stability (the balance brought by 4f). The artistry of integration/unintegration is complex and contextual, and it cannot be reduced to form. The next example of integration is from the opening of the Song of Songs (1:2–4). Unlike the Isaiah passages, Song of Songs typically avoids symmetries of line-pairs or line-groupings. TEXT 7.11 yiššāqēnî minnǝšîqôt pîhû Let-him-kiss-me with-the-kisses-of his-mouth,
2a
יִ ָּׁש ֵ ֙קנִ ֙י ִמּנְ ִׁש ֣יקֹות ֔ ִּפיהּו
34. Cf. the similarly destabilizing A/Aʹ/B pattern preserved in variant readings of Deut 32:15 (Sam, 4QPhyl N, and OG), in which the three-verb B line (15b) emerges forcefully and cohesively through repetitive sound patterning. (w)yʾkl yʿqb wyśbʿ And-ate Jacob and-was-satisfied; wayyišman yǝšurûn wayyibʿāṭ and-grew-fat Jeshurun and-kicked. šāmantā ʿābîtā kāśîtā You-grew-fat, you-grew-thick, you-were-gorged!
-
(ו)יאכל יעקב וישבע
15a
רּון וַ ְּיִב ֔ ָעט ֙ וַ ּיִ ְׁש ַ ֤מן יְ ֻׁש
15b
ית ָ ית ָּכ ִ ׂ֑ש ָ ָׁש ַ ֖מנְ ָּת ָע ִ ֣ב
Nelson suggests that the MT lost the A line through haplography (2002: 367). 35. Lines 3c–d are either contextually or grammatically elliptical; either way, they must be read within the context of the four-line A/A/B/B symmetry set up by 3a–b.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 243 ]
kî-ṭôbîm dōdêkā miyyāyin because~good (is) your-love more-than-wine;
2b
י־טֹובים ּד ֶ ֹ֖דיָך ִמ ָּי�ֽיִ ן׃ ִ֥ ִ ּֽכ
lǝrêaḥ šǝmānêkā ṭôbîm for-fragrance, your-oils (are) good,36
3a
טֹובים ִ֔ ְל ֵ֙ר ַ֙יח ְׁש ָמ ֶנ֣יָך
šemen tûraq šǝmekā oil poured-out (is) your name—
3b
ּתּורק ְׁש ֶ ֑מָך ֣ ַ ֶ ׁ֖ש ֶמן
ʿal-kēn ʿălāmôt ʾăhēbûkā there~upon maidens love-you.
3c
ל־ּכ֖ן ֲע ָל ֥מֹות ֲא ֵה ֽבּוָך׃ ֵ ַע
moškēnî ʾaḥărêkā nārûṣâ Draw-me after-you, let-us-run!
4a
ּוצה ָ ָמ ְׁש ֵ ֖כנִ י ַא ֲח ֶ ֣ריָך ּנָ ֑ר
hĕbîʾanî hammelek ḥădārāyw Brings-me the-king (into-)his-chambers.
4b
יאנִ י ַה ֶּ֜מ ֶלְך ֲח ָד ָ ֗ריו ַ֙ ֱה ִב
nāgîlâ wǝniśmǝḥâ bāk Let-us-rejoice and-be-glad in-you,
4c
֤ילה וְ נִ ְׂש ְמ ָח ֙ה ָּ֔בְך ָ נָ ִג
nazkîrâ dōdêkā miyyayin let-us-praise your-love more-than-wine.
4d
נַ זְ ִ ּ֤כ ָירה ד ֶ ֹ֙ד ֙יָך ִמ ַּ֔ייִ ן
mêšārîm ʾăhēbûkā Rightly they-love-you!
4e
יׁש ִ ֖רים ֲא ֵה ֽבּוָך׃ ס ָ ֵמ
The stanza is made up of two five-line sections (2a–3c and 4a–e), producing a stanza that is balanced but not symmetrical. The integration of the first section (2a–3c) is particularly complex: each line, though distinct, flows from the previous line, which is difficult to reflect in translation. Line 2b is syntactically dependent upon line 2a and seems like a line-pair, yet it switches from third-person pronouns (the woman talking about her lover) to second person (the woman speaking to her lover).37 The second person continues in line 3a, and there is a continuity from “wine” to “oils” (cf. the similar progression from love/wine to fragrance of oils in 4:10). Furthermore, there is repetition of ṭôbîm “good” in 3a from line 2b. Likewise, line 3a continues into the next line, 3b, through repetition of šemen (“oil”), which is described with flowing imagery (tûraq, “poured out”). Line 3b coheres line-internally through sounds (šemen tûraq šǝmekā), as does line 3c (ʿal-kēn ʿălāmôt ʾăhēbûkā), but line 3c is logically and syntactically 36. Alternatively, reading against the Masoretic verse shapes, some would translate 3a, “than-the-fragrance-of your oils [your-love] (is) better,” with dōdêkā (“your love”) elided from 3a through chiastically arranged syntax in 2b and 3a (thus Garrett 2004: 128–29; cf. Pope 1977: 291; Keel 1994: 40). On the possibility of the preposition l- as equivalent to min-, see HALOT 1: 508. This reading produces a complexly integrated A/B/B line-triple. 37. See Brettler 2018 on the issue of enallage in biblical poetry and unresolved questions about this passage in particular. Enallage contributes to the integration of lines 2a–3c by weakening the shape of the first line-pair (2a–b). [ 244 ] Remaining Issues
integrated with 3b through the particle ʿal-kēn (“thereupon”). The integration that has characterized the stanza thus far does not continue into line 4a. Line 4a starts a new section of the stanza. Lines 4a–b are loosely integrated as a line-pair (semantically, but notice again the change in person), while lines 4c–d are more tightly integrated. Thus, line 4e stands slightly apart, yet it is a comment on the line-pair 4c–d. Even though line 4e is the least integrated line of the stanza, it is integral: it echoes line 3c (the end of the first section), and even further, affirms the rightness of 3c. It closes the stanza by expressing that what the maidens feel is indeed justifiable; more need not be said. This first stanza of the Song of Songs reflects the character of much of the book: generally, lines can be organized into line-groupings, but the poetry is characterized by the overall strong integration of its lines into stanzas. Unlike the opening of Isaiah, there are no extended passages of strongly symmetrical line-pairs. Thus, when the following passage (Song 2:4–7) unfolds, the relative lack of integration of 5c is pronounced. (The poetic unit begins earlier in 1:15.) The line-pair 5a–b is strongly symmetrical. Though 5c is syntactically integrated with 5a–b, the figure does not become an A/A/B/B pattern, but the line-triple emerges as an A/A/B pattern, 2 lines +1 line. TEXT 7.12 hĕbîʾanî ʾel-bêt hayyāyin He-has-brought-me to~the-house-of wine,
4a
ל־ּב֣ית ַה ָּ֔ייִ ן ֵ יאנִ ֙י ֶא ַ֙ ֱה ִב
wǝdiglô ʿālay ʾahăbâ and-his-banner over-me (is) love.
4b
וְ ִדגְ ֥לֹו ָע ַ ֖לי ַא ֲה ָ ֽבה׃
sammǝkûnî bāʾăšîšôt Lay-me38 on-the-raisin-cakes,
5a
יׁשֹות ֔ ַס ְּמ ֙כּונִ ֙י ָ ּֽב ֲא ִׁש
rappǝdûnî battappûḥîm stretch-me-out on-the-apples;
5b
ּפּוחים ֑ ִ ַר ְּפ ֖דּונִ י ַּב ַּת
kî-ḥôlat ʾahăbâ ʾānî for-ill-of love (am) I!
5c
י־חֹולת ַא ֲה ָ ֖בה ָ ֽאנִ י׃ ַ֥ ִּכ
śǝmōʾlô taḥat lǝrōʾšî His-left-hand (is) under my-head,
6a
אׁשי ִ֔ ֹ אלֹו ַ ּ֣ת ַחת ְלר ֙ ֹ ְׂשמ
wîmînô tǝḥabbǝqēnî and-his-right-hand embraces-me.
6b
ימינ֖ ֹו ְּת ַח �ּב ֵ ְֽקנִ י׃ ִ ִו
hišbaʿtî ʾetkem bǝnôt yǝrûšālaim I-adjure you, daughters-of Jerusalem,
7a
ִרּוׁש ַל ֙ם ָ֙ ְִה ְׁש ַּ֙ב ְע ִּתי ֶא ְת ֶ֜כם ְּבנ֤ ֹות י
38. Garrett argues that the piʿel of s-m-k, used only here, means “support” in the sense of “make (me) to rest upon” rather than “feed (me)” (2004: 150–51). The meaning of the verb rappǝdûnî in 5b corresponds semantically; when it is translated “refresh” (e.g., NRSV), the meaning is derived from the “parallel” sammǝkûnî (HALOT 2: 1276).
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 245 ]
biṣbāʾôt ʾô bǝʾaylôt haśśādê by-gazelles, or by-does-of the-field:
7b
ִּב ְצ ָב ֔אֹות ֖אֹו ְּב ַאיְ ֣לֹות ַה ָּׂש ֶ ֑דה
ʾim-tāʿîrû wǝʾim-tǝʿôrǝrû Do-not~wake and-do-not~rouse
7c
ם־ּת ֽע ְֹור ֛רּו ְ ם־ּת ִ ֧עירּו׀ ְ ֽו ִא ָ ִא
ʾet-hāʾahăbâ ʿad šetteḥpāṣ ‹o.m.›~love until it-pleases!
7d
ת־ה ַא ֲה ָ ֖בה ַ ֥עד ֶׁש ֶּת ְח ָ ּֽפץ׃ ס ָ ֶא
In this passage, it is not the destabilizing effect of the A/A/B line-triple of 5a–c that is noteworthy (cf. Isa 1:2a–c, text 7.10). Fluidity of shapes, not stability, is characteristic of most of the Song. What stands out here in context is the high degree of unintegration of 5c. The line-pair 6a–b continues the imagery of the woman reclining but does not resolve the lack of integration of line 5c. Unlike Song 1:4e (text 7.11), line 2:5c is not integral to the structure of the stanza (which does not end until 2:7d), and it certainly does not bring semantic closure: if anything, it implies that there is much more to say. To be “ill” or “wounded” (ḥôlat) is not a lighthearted matter (Garrett 2004: 151), as the woman’s adjuration in 2:7 corroborates. The relative lack of integration and the semantic weightiness combine to make this line prominent. This line is not obviously integral to its stanza, but we can expect that somehow it is integral to the book. This is indeed the case. A near-repetition of the line comes in 5:8c. Here the woman is also “wounded,” but unlike 2:5–6, the experience is characterized by the man’s absence (5:6), not his presence. Song 5:8 marks the turning point in the female protagonist’s trials: TEXT 7.13 hišbaʿtî ʾetkem bǝnôt yǝrûšālāim I-adjure you, daughters-of Jerusalem:
8a
ִרּוׁש ָל֑ם ָ ְִה ְׁש ַ ּ֥ב ְע ִּתי ֶא ְת ֶכ֖ם ְּבנ֣ ֹות י
ʾim-timṣǝʾû ʾet-dôdî mah-taggîdû lô If~you-find ‹o.m.›~my-beloved, what~must-you-tell to-him?
8b
ה־ּת ִּג֣ידּו ֔לֹו ַ ת־ּדֹודי ַמ ִ֔ אּו ֶא ֙ ם־ּת ְמ ְצ ִ ִ ֽא
šeḥôlat ʾahăbâ ʾānî That-ill-of love (am) I.
8c
חֹולת ַא ֲה ָ ֖בה ָ ֽאנִ י׃ ֥ ַ ֶׁש
In the following stanza she praises her lover (5:10–16), and his absence is subsequently resolved, in “his garden” (6:1–3). A fuller discussion of the development of the Song of Songs is outside the scope of this book. The purpose of these discussions about integration in specific texts of Isaiah and the Song has been to show that integration is multifaceted and contextual, and that, from the line to the line-grouping and the stanza and the whole poem, the study of integration is essential when exploring the artistry of biblical poems.
[ 246 ] Remaining Issues
7.2. RHYTHM AND LINES IN LAMENTATIONS 1–4
Many, if not most, scholars have moved away from the once-pervasive idea that biblical poetry is metrical. Yet the idea of qinah meter (3:2 or long-short “dirge” or “lament” meter), with its supposed limping or sobbing effects, continues to persist, it seems, because metrical theory has not been replaced by a coherent free-rhythm versification model for Lamentations 1–4 and other biblical poems.39 The basic critiques of Budde’s formulation of the qinah meter (1882) are widespread but explained in detail in de Hoop 2000c. First, it is misleading to call the 3:2 or long-short pattern “qinah meter” because this same pattern occurs in many non-lament genres (e.g., many lines of Ps 119 and the Song of Songs). Second, it is unclear how significant the pattern actually was for laments in ancient Israel, since many biblical laments do not follow this pattern (e.g., David’s lament for Saul and Jonathan in 2 Sam 1:19– 27). Third, it is questionable how well this long-short or heavy-light pattern actually fits the lines of Lam 1–4, especially in relation to the prosodic phrasing shapes of the Masoretic cantillation. Something is unique, however, about the poems of Lam 1–4 (especially 1–3), and it is connected to the complex interplay of rhythms and poetic structure. But the metrical framework of qinah meter cannot account for it, even if we rechristen “qinah meter” as “long-short rhythm.” The problems are threefold. First, rhythm is a complex phenomenon that cannot be boiled down to stress or syllable counts, nor can it be conflated with balance or imbalance. Rhythm is a perceived sound pattern that embraces a wide range of non-binary features (see section 2.4). We can describe a line-pair as having three stresses followed by two stresses (which contributes to the rhythm), but we cannot simply say that a line-pair has a 3:2 rhythm.40 A three-word line itself may internally have
39. Gray (1915: 88– 92) summarizes the contributions of both Lowth (1825, 1835) and Budde (1882) to the study of the rhythm and character of the first four poems of Lamentations. For Budde, the normal length was 3 words followed by 2 words, though he allowed for variations that still fit a long-short pattern (4:3 or 4:2) or a heavy-light pattern (2:2, but still unequal in weight). More recently, Dobbs-Allsopp (2015) is firm in his view that biblical poetry is not metrical, yet he continues to use the phrase “qinah meter” in his book: “The qinah meter (not a meter at all!) is a couplet form that prototypically consists of a longer line of verse followed by a shorter line of verse, though the pattern is also sometimes reversed (shorter followed by longer)” (80). He uses this pattern as a guide to the lineation of Lamentations, as if it were a meter, and studies enjambment and its effects based on the lines that are determined by this pattern, even against the phrasing of the MT (2001a and 2001b; cf. his lineation of Ps 133, which he supports in part by enjambment patterns drawn from Lamentations, 2015: 507 n. 22, 518–19n100). 40. Cf. Smith 1968: 87, 91, on the nonquantifiable but perceptible nature of rhythm in English free verse.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 247 ]
a “long-short” or “short-long” rhythmic feel, depending on the prosodic phrasing. Furthermore, balance/imbalance in biblical line-groupings is not absolute but must be perceived based on syllables or stresses/words or both within the context of prosodic phrasing (see sections 5.5 and 5.6). That is, a 3:2 line-pair may be balanced and still have a quite different rhythmic “feel” from a balanced 3:3 line-pair. Or a 3:3 line-pair may be balanced but still feel as if it moves toward weightiness. Poetic rhythm is a complex perceptual phenomenon, and rhythm in biblical poetic lines is no exception. We must not reduce it to balance and imbalance or to stresses or syllables: these are just some of the things that contribute to “felt” rhythmic movement in biblical poetic lines. Second, poetic rhythm does not determine the line; rather, it is the line in biblical poetry that allows us to perceive poetic rhythm.41 Perception of rhythm is dependent upon not just repetition or recurrence of stimuli but upon the mental organization of a series of stimuli as a series of groups of stimuli (see section 2.4). Each group must be perceived as a whole. Segments of text or language in narrative or speech can be perceived as rhythmic groups of stimuli, but poetic rhythm is not the same as language rhythm or prosodic phonology. The prosodic phrasing of Biblical Hebrew contributes to or interacts with poetic rhythm but cannot be equated with it. Rather, the perceptual wholes of poetic rhythm are the lines of a poem, poetic units that are (in biblical poetry) organized from textual elements of potentially any aspect of language. The perception of poetic rhythm in biblical poetry depends upon the perception of the line (and thus the line-grouping as well); poetic rhythm does not exist independently of the line and line-grouping. The poetic rhythm of biblical poetry thus lies in the perceived movement within the line and in the perceived movement of the line in relation to the line-grouping. We have seen (in section 6.1) that poetic rhythm can continue across line-groupings, and that rhythmic continuation across line-groupings can affect (even effect) line structure (Judg 5:3, Exod 15:6–10, Judg 5:23–24; texts 6.1–6.4). That is, the mind can perpetuate rhythmic patterns across line-groupings. But these lines are not simply determined by poetic rhythm; they still emerge through the initial and ongoing part-whole structuring of the lines/line-groupings, through the Gestalt principle of continuation. Rhythmic patterns do not by themselves determine biblical lines. Therefore, we must establish the lines of Lamentations based on part-whole Gestalt organization. We cannot study the rhythms before we study how the lines emerge. Third, the supposed effect of Lam 1–4 is commonly attributed to the qinah meter (or unbalanced “rhythm”): a choking or sobbing or limping effect.42 41. The same can be said of metrical English poetry, according to how Tsur accounts for poetic rhythm (2012). 42. For such descriptions of effects, see, in addition to Budde 1882; Tigay and Cooper 2007: 449 (“choked or sobbing effect”); and Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 204 (“hypnotic [ 248 ] Remaining Issues
This idea is based on a widespread faulty assumption in biblical scholarship that identifying poetic forms or patterns allows us to identify functions or effects.43 The particular effects of Lam 1–4, however, cannot be said to derive simply from imbalanced lines (even if it were shown that imbalanced lines predominate): there are plenty of imbalanced lines in biblical poetry that do not produce these effects. Furthermore, the supposed effect of qinah meter or qinah “rhythm” does not elucidate the significant differences between the four poems of Lam 1–4. We must be wary of simply assigning effects to patterns apart from contexts. For example, we have seen that an A/A/B line-triple is often destabilizing, yet we cannot predict the contextual effect based on form alone (as in Isa 1:2a–c, text 7.10, and Song 2:5, text 7.12). Accounting for poetic effects is not simple, but our starting place in accounting for the effects of the poems of Lamentations must be a legitimate understanding (both theoretical and contextual) of rhythm and the emergence of lines in biblical poetry. Lamentations 1–4, just like the rest of biblical poetry, is not metrical. Rhythmic patterns external to the text do not determine the line structure; rather, the perception of rhythm in Lam 1–4 is dependent upon the perception of segments of text as rhythmic wholes. The line provides the perceptual wholes by which rhythm can be perceived, as both movement within lines and movement within line-groupings. The lines emerge through the part-whole mental structuring of textual shapes as lines and figures, and poetic rhythm and effects also emerge in this process. In Lam 1–3 the complexity of the part-whole relationships (in the context of the acrostic form) creates rhythms within figures that are more complex than we have yet seen in the poems analyzed in this book. Here is the opening verse of Lam 1: TEXT 7.14 ʾêkâ yāšǝbâ bādād hāʿîr rabbātî ʿām 1a How sits alone, the-city great-of people!
יר ַר ָ ּ֣ב ִתי ֔ ָעם ֙ ֵא ָיכ֣ה׀ יָ ְׁש ָ ֣בה ָב ָ ֗דד ָה ִע
limping beat”). Additionally, Dobbs-Allsopp attributes the effects of Lamentations to enjambment. (On the problem of attributing biblical poetic effects to enjambment, a metrical/free-verse phenomenon, see section 7.1.) After noting that the default rhythmic arrangement of the lines of the Psalms is 3-3, Goldingay says, “The 3-2 rhythm is the second most common regular rhythm in the Psalms, used especially for more reflective or distraught prayers (e.g., the opening verses of Pss. 14 and 27; also 119:25–32). In that connection, its effect is to keep bringing readers up short as the line stops one word sooner than we expect; the verse thus reflects the way life brings us up short” (2006: 40). 43. See, e.g., Couey’s discussion of Isa 22:1–14 (2015: 61–62). He suggests that imbalanced rhythm suggests a tone of lamentation. Thus, where the rhythm occurs and the tone is not present, there is a “tension between form and content” (61).
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 249 ]
hāyǝtâ kǝʾalmānâ rabbātî baggôyīm 1b Has-become like-a-widow, the-great-one among-the-nations.
ּגֹוים ִ֗ יְתה ְּכ ַא ְל ָמ ָנ֑ה ַּר ָ ּ֣ב ִתי ַב ֖ ָ ָה
1c
יְתה ָל ַ ֽמס׃ ס ֖ ָ תי ַּב ְּמ ִדינ֔ ֹות ָה ֙ ִ ָׂש ָ֙ר
śārātî bammǝdînôt hāyǝtâ lāmas The-princess among-the-provinces has- become for-forced-labor.
Most scholars lineate Lam 1:1 as six lines of two-or three-word phrases. This conventional lineation, however, does not reflect how the part-whole organization of the verse unfolds. The whole of the verse, though comprised of six major prosodic phrases, has three genuine parts, patterned AB/AB/BA (where A is the predicate of its clause and B the subject).44 Each line is a clause that gives a description of Jerusalem as she was (the B unit, the subject) contrasted with how she now is (the A unit, the predicate). Repetitions and similarities of forms contribute to the correspondences between the A units (yāšǝbâ/hāyǝtâ/ hāyǝtâ) and the B units (rabbātî ʿām/rabbātî baggôyim/śārātî bammǝdînôt). The first line (1a), a clause made up of two balanced phrases, coheres to a degree because of the requiredness of the identification of the subject following the verb in this opening line of the lament. Line 1b is patterned similarly to line 1a, but the significant differences between the lines (the two additional words in line 1a, including the particle ʾêkâ, “how”) prevent them from emerging as a symmetrical line-pair (either syntactically or semantically).45 Line 1b is balanced with 1a not by stresses/words but by the syllable counts of the phrases (the first phrase of each line has 7 syllables, the second phrase has 6), but the potential line-pair is not closed through symmetry. The patterned figure continues in line 1c, and the strong correspondences between 1c and 1b allow us to structure 1b–c as a chiastically symmetrical subwhole of the three-line figure. The change in patterning of the figure as the third line unfolds (from AB to BA, and from the repeated rabbātî, “great,” to śārātî, “princess”) allows us to hear that the figure is coming to closure.46 The verse is a highly integrated line- triple. There is no long-short patterning within lines; there is not even instability or imbalance between contiguous lines as the figure emerges. Rather, the verse starts the poem with strong (albeit complex) shapes that set the pattern of part-whole relationships (three lines per figure) for the rest of the poem.47 44. On genuine parts, see section 4.1. Salters likewise draws attention to the patterning in v. 1 and formats his translation as three-line stanzas (2010: 33, 38). 45. On semantic symmetry, see ch. 5, n27. 46. The repetition of rabbātî is a prominent feature in the organization of line 1b as similar to line 1a. The line-initial śārātî clearly corresponds to rabbātî (in sounds and morphology), yet the change, the discontinuity, is also prominent as line 1c begins and unfolds. 47. Some scholars divide this verse into two main parts based on the view that the ʾatnach on kǝʾalmānâ indicates a major break in the verse and thus produces two groups [ 250 ] Remaining Issues
One feature that sets Lam 1–4 apart from Lam 5 and all the poems we have analyzed thus far is the organizing feature of the acrostic. In Lam 1, each verse (each line-triple) begins with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet, beginning with ʾaleph at the beginning of v. 1 and ending with taw at the beginning of v. 22. The acrostic form provides a regularity in line-groupings that we have not yet encountered. This regularity, however, still conforms to the part- whole grouping system of biblical poetry: the opening of Lam 1, with its strong shapes, establishes what the line-grouping pattern of the acrostic will be.48 The second verse also emerges as a whole figure with three genuine parts, based on the shapes of the text, as well as the precedent in v. 1: TEXT 7.15 bākô tibkê ballaylâ wǝdimʿātāh ʿal leḥĕyāh 2a Bitterly she-weeps in-the-night, and-her- tears (are) on her-cheek.
ָּב ֙כֹו ִת ְב ֶּ֜כה ַּב ֗ ַּליְ ָלה וְ ִד ְמ ָע ָת ּ֙ה ַע֣ל ֶ ֽל ֱח ָ֔יּה
ʾên-lāh mǝnaḥēm mikkol-ʾōhăbêhā There-is-not~to-her a-comforter among-all~her-friends.
2b
יה ָ ין־לּה ְמנַ ֵ ֖חם ִמ ָּכל־א ֲֹה ֶ ֑ב ֥ ָ ֵ ֽא
kol-rēʿêhā bāgǝdû bāh hāyû lāh lǝʾōyǝbîm All~her-allies have-dealt-treacherously with-her; they-have-become to-her as-enemies.
2c
ֹיְבים׃ ֽ ִ יה ָ ּ֣בגְ דּו ָ֔בּה ָ ֥היּו ָלּ֖ה ְלא ָ֙ ל־ר ֶ֙ע ֵ ָּכ ס
The initial strong line-patterning of the acrostic in v. 1 has established long, complex lines as the norm in this lament. The long, internally balanced line of 2a continues the two-phrase pattern set by the first line-triple. Notice that line 2a is not internally symmetrical; it does not break into two parts of a symmetrical whole. Rather, the lines are drawn together through semantic similarity in this context (owing to the expectation for long lines set by v. 1).
of three lines (e.g., Berlin 2002: 41, 49). (The rest of the verses in Lam 1 do not follow this pattern of mid-verse ʾatnach placement.) This raises the question of whether the part-whole structure I have proposed is reading against the tradition of the Masoretic Text. In this book I have accepted a prosodic phonology view of the accents, which is different from modern punctuation and also distinct from both syntactic structure and poetic structure. The ʾatnach indicates an utterance-internal prosodic phrase boundary, which signals a pragmatic continuation of the utterance. More research is needed, however, to understand what the Tiberian symbols communicate as representations of prosodic phonology before we can accurately assess whether the shapes I have proposed go against the sense of the accents. I thank Sophia Pitcher for discussing this verse with me in light of her ongoing research in prosodic phonology. 48. The one verse of Lam 1 that does not fit this pattern is 1:7, which, based on manuscript evidence, appears to be a conflation of variant readings. See the discussion in BHQ.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 251 ]
It is not necessary to read against the Masoretic prosodic words (ignoring the maqqefs/hyphens) in line 2b (as a metrical approach must do to make a 3:2 line-pair). Line 2b is simply a less weighty line than line 2a (by stresses/words or syllables). But line 2c—which has the same weight as line 2a, and likewise consists of two balanced clauses—restores the balance of the line-grouping and thus brings closure to the figure. If Lam 1 is lineated according to part-whole patterning of genuine parts (by which line-triples consistently emerge), rather than according to meter, there are no one-word lines or readings against the Masoretic phrasing (conjunctive/disjunctive accents) for the sake of a particular rhythm (see especially 6a, 13a, 15a, 17c). That is, part-whole patterning fits the shapes of the text (from all levels of language), as well as the Masoretic phrasing. Each of the verses, marked by the successive acrostic letters, emerges as a distinct and integrated line-triple. Until the final line of the lament, there are no line-internal symmetries. The lines that consist of two clauses (like 2a and 2c) are drawn together through some other kind of similarity; they are not organized through symmetry.49 This allows the lengthy lines to cohere as genuine parts, rather than break apart into symmetrical line-pairs,50 and it also contributes to the integrity of each line-triple.51 Contrast the final verse of the poem (1:22): TEXT 7.16 tābōʾ kol-rāʿātām lǝpānêkā wǝʿôlēl lāmô 22a Let-come all~their-evildoing before-you and-deal with-them kaʾăšer ʿôlaltā lî ʿal kol-pǝšāʿāy as you-have-dealt with-me concerning all~my-transgressions!
עֹול֣ל ֔ ָלמֹו ֵ ְל־ר ָע ָ ֤תם ְל ָפנֶ֙ ֙יָך ו ָ ָּת ֙ב ֹא ָכ
22b
ל־ּפ ָׁש ָ ֑עי ְ עֹול ְ֛ל ָּת ִ ֖לי ַע֣ל ָּכ ַ ַּכ ֲא ֶ ׁ֥שר
kî-rabbôt ʾanḥōtay wǝlibbî dawwāy 22c For~great (are) my-sighs, and-my-heart (is) faint.
י־ר ּ֥בֹות ַאנְ ח ַ ֹ֖תי וְ ִל ִ ּ֥בי ַדָ ּֽוי׃ פ ַ ִ ּֽכ
This final line-triple is different from the highly integrated line-groupings that precede it. The first two lines (22a–b) are highly integrated, syntactically and 49. Line 4b seems to intentionally avoid morphological line-internal symmetry by the use of the Aramaic plural ending -în (contrast the same word with the typical Hebrew ending in 1:16). The syntax of line 13c appears to involve ellipsis, but the line lacks symmetry because of the fragmentation of the surface structure. 50. The similarity can contribute to the cohesion of the whole line, whereas similarity of components and their positions (symmetry) tends to strengthen the segregation into subwholes. 51. The strongest integration that occurs between line-triples is the wayiqqtol form that starts v. 6 (and fits into the acrostic patterning via the letter waw), though lines 6a–c still emerge as a distinct unit with integrity. [ 252 ] Remaining Issues
semantically, while the third line emerges distinctly with line-internal chiastic symmetry. That is, this final line-triple has the shape of 2 lines +1 line. This change in integration (which also affects the rhythm of the line-grouping as a whole), after twenty-one integrated line-triples, is what lets us feel that the poem has come to an end—even though there is no resolution to the grief or injustice.52 Thus, the poetic structure of Lam 1 emerges as poetic structure emerges in other biblical poems, through part-whole lines and line-groupings. Its rhythms are different from the other poems we have analyzed thus far, because its lines are different. The lines are relative lengthy, and many of them are made up of two distinct major phrases. The poetic rhythms are complex: they can be heard as movement between the phrases within the line, and they can also be heard as movement of the three lines in relation to each other within each line-grouping. Neither the lines nor the line-triples of Lam 1, however, are characteristically imbalanced. Each line-triple is almost like a distinct stanza with its own internal complexity; it is the consistency of the acrostic form and the subject matter that integrates the poem. Lamentations 2, like Lam 1, is an acrostic of twenty-two line-triples, each beginning with a successive alphabet letter.53 It begins and continues, however, with a very different feel from Lam 1. TEXT 7.17 ʾêkâ yāʿîb bǝʾappô ʾădōnāy ʾet-bat-ṣiyyôn How has-beclouded54 in-his-anger the-Lord ‹o.m.›~daughter-of~Zion!
1a
יכ ֩ה יָ ֙ ִעיב ְּב ַא ּ֤פֹו׀ ֲאד ֹנָ ֙י ָ ֵא ת־צּי֔ ֹון ִ ת־ּב ַ ֶא
hišlîk miššāmayim ʾereṣ tipʾeret yiśrāʾēl He-has-cast from-heaven (to)-earth the- splendor-of Israel;
1b
ִה ְׁש ִ ֤ליְך ִמ ָּׁש ַ֙מ ֙יִם ֶ֔א ֶרץ ִּת ְפ ֶ ֖א ֶרת יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֑אל
wǝlōʾ-zākar hădōm-raglāyw bǝyôm ʾappô and-not~has-he-remembered the-stool- of~his-feet on-the-day-of his-anger.
1c ֹם־רגְ ָל֖יו ְּבי֥ ֹום ַא ּֽפֹו׃ ס ַ וְ לֹא־זָ ַ ֥כר ֲהד
Again, there is no need to ignore the Masoretic prosodic phonological shapes for the sake of qinah meter or rhythmic patterning. We have seen how grammatical requiredness can unify a line (section 6.3), and this occurs in both 1a and 1b, because of the demand for a direct object by the verb. What is 52. Notice that it is not just the closure of the alphabet pattern that brings this poem to an end; closure is also brought about here by other poetic shapes of organized language. 53. The MT preserves four lines in 2:19, an issue that is unresolved from manuscript evidence. 54. Alternatively, based on an Arabic cognate, “scorned” (HALOT 1: 794).
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 253 ]
remarkable about 1a, however, is how the word order also dis-integrates the verb from subject and the verb from object, within a single line (contrast the syntactic dis-integration in texts 7.3–7.4). This results in a unified lengthy line (albeit with dis-integrated syntactic relations) and a unique rhythm with a slight space after the third word and disjunctives (phrase boundary markers) on the fourth and fifth prosodic words. We might consider what the tone or feel of this poem is, and whether/how it is communicated in the shapes of the poem, considering both the dis-integrating syntax and the complex rhythm, among other factors.55 But the feel of the poem surely cannot be boiled down to a stress pattern or imbalance. The line- triple closes as a well-crafted figure with change in the last line: specifically, of constituent order: the prepositional phrase, not the object, comes last. Additionally, this results in a frame of “anger” for the figure: yāʿîb bǝʾappô (“has-beclouded in-his-anger”) in 1a, and bǝyôm ʾappô (“on-the-day-of his- anger”) in 1c. Similar observations could be made with regard to the shapes of lines and line-groupings throughout the poem.56 Here is the final line-triple (2:22): TEXT 7.18 tiqrāʾ kǝyôm môʿēd mǝgûray missābîb You-called as-a-day-of festival my- terrors from-every-side,
22a
גּור֙י ִמ ָּס ִ֔ביב ַ מֹוע֤ד ְמ ֵ ִּת ְק ָר ֩א ְ ֙כיֹום
wǝlōʾ hāyâ bǝyôm ʾap-yhwh pālîṭ wǝśārîd and-not was-there on-the-day-of the- anger-of~YHWH escapee or-survivor.
22b
הו֖ה ָּפ ִ ֣ליט וְ ָׂש ִ ֑ריד ָ ְוְ ֥ל ֹא ָהָי֛ה ְּבי֥ ֹום ַאף־י
ʾăšer-ṭippaḥtî wǝribbîtî ʾōyǝbî killām (Those)-whom~I-bore and-raised, my- enemy finished-them-off.
22c
ֹיְבי ִכ ָ ּֽלם׃ פ ֥ ִ יתי א ִ ר־ט ַ ּ֥פ ְח ִּתי וְ ִר ִ ּ֖ב ִ ֲא ֶׁש
Line 2:22a, like 2:1a, emerges as a unified line with dis-integrating word order: the verb is separated from both the object (mǝgûray, “my terrors”) and the adverbial phrase (missābîb, “from every side”). Line 22b returns to the “day of anger” (cf. 2:1a, 1c), and the final line (22c) concludes with a closural allusion, killām, meaning “to complete” or “to finish.” The poems of Lam 1 and Lam 2 share the same basic acrostic form, but they feel and sound quite different because of the shapes of their lines and line-groupings. A significant change in form comes with Lam 3. In this poem,
55. Cf. Berlin 2002: 67: “God is angry with Israel, and, from the tone in which that anger is described, we sense that the poet is angry with God.” 56. We could also compare and contrast the integration of stanzas/figures in Lam 1 and 2, and how this affects the feel and rhythm of the two poems. [ 254 ] Remaining Issues
each poetic line (not figure) begins with an acrostic letter. Each acrostic letter is repeated three times, so that the poem has a total of 66 lines (like Lam 1 and 2). Here are the three ʾaleph lines that open the poem (3:1–3): TEXT 7.19 ʾănî haggeber rāʾâ ʿŏnî bǝšēbeṭ ʿebrātô I (am) the-man (who) has-seen affliction by-the-rod-of his-wrath.
1
ֲא ִנ֤י ַהּגֶ֙ ֶב ֙ר ָר ָ ֣אה ֳע ִ֔ני ְּב ֵ ׁ֖ש ֶבט ֶע ְב ָר ֽתֹו׃
ʾôtî nāhag wayyōlak ḥōšek wǝlōʾ-ʾôr Me he-has-driven and-made-walk (in) darkness and-not~light.
2
א־אֹור׃ ֽ ֹ אֹותי נָ ַ ֛הג וַ ּי ַֹלְ֖ך ֥חֹ ֶׁשְך וְ ל ִ֥
ʾak bî yāšub yahăpōk yādô kol-hayyôm 3 Surely against-me he-repeatedly turns his- hand all~the-day.
ל־הּיֽ ֹום׃ ס ַ ׁשב יַ ֲה ֥ ֹפְך יָ ֖דֹו ָּכ ֛ ֻ ַָ ֣אְך ִ ּ֥בי י
Again, the lines are relatively lengthy, with complex internal rhythms, but the poetic structure emerges as one line per Masoretic verse, not two. This pattern is established for the acrostic in these first three lines of the poem, just as the forms of Lam 1 and 2 were established in the first three lines of those poems.57 These first three lines emerge as lines in relation to each other through line- initial similarity: not simply through the acrostic letter, but more importantly, through the focus on the first person that organizes the three lines in relation to each other (ʾănî, “I”; ʾôtî, “me”; ʾak bî, “surely against-me”). The line-grouping as a whole, however, lacks closure—quite in contrast to Lam 1:1, 1:2, and 2:1, which we analyzed above. This is a major difference between Lam 3 and the preceding two laments. The lines of Lam 3 are firmly established by the shapes of Lam 3:1–3 and the continuing acrostic pattern, but the lines are not necessarily integrated into distinct line-triples.58 Instead, the stronger (simpler) shape of the line goes hand in hand with the weaker shape (lessened integrity) of the whole line-grouping. This in turn allows the poet to integrate Lam 3 across lines of different acrostic letters (e.g., 3:12–13, 21–22), which gives the poet more flexibility in the continuation of shapes at a higher level of the poem. Thus, the poet is able to create local patterns within the poem across lines and change them for quite dramatic effect (e.g., the change of phrasing shapes and line length in 3:56, text 7.28). The line-internal rhythms of Lam 3 matter to the patterning and effects not in a simplistic or predictable way
57. Lineating Lam 3 in this way means that there are no strange one-word lines (e.g., in 3:31), nor are there rhythmic patterns that go against the Masoretic prosodic phonological shapes. 58. Likewise, the pragmatic utterance (the Masoretic verse) does not correspond with three lines in this lament but rather, with one poetic line.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 255 ]
but insofar as they move and change contextually in the larger contours of the poem. Lamentations 4 goes back to strong distinct line-groupings, as in Lam 1 and 2, but with a different acrostic form. The lines are shorter (and less rhythmically complex) and make up four-line groupings, with an acrostic letter at the beginning of each four-line grouping. Lamentations 4:1 establishes the acrostic form for the poem: TEXT 7.20 ʾêkâ yûʿam zāhāb How is-dulled gold,59
1a
יּוע֣ם זָ ָ֔הב ַ יכ ֙ה ָ ֵא
yišneʾ hakketem haṭṭôb changes the-gold the-good,60
1b
יִ ְׁש ֶנ֖א ַה ֶּכ ֶ֣תם ַה ּ֑טֹוב
tištappēkǝnâ ʾabnê-qōdeš are-poured-out stones-of~sacredness
1c
ִּת ְׁש ַּת ֙ ֵּפ ְכנָ ֙ה ַא ְבנֵ י־ ֔קֹ ֶדׁש
bǝrōʾš kol-ḥûṣôt at-the-head-of all~streets!
1d
ל־חּוצֹות׃ ס ֽ ְּב ֖ר ֹאׁש ָּכ
While the four lines emerge as two line-pairs, they are also patterned as a four-part whole, similar to other line-groupings that we have seen in poems outside of Lamentations. The first three lines are integrated through similar syntax (V S), while the fourth line changes the pattern, bringing closure to the line-grouping. The lines of the poem continue to emerge in four-line wholes, with various internal phrasing shapes. The lines can be heard based on the part-whole shapes of the text, which do not conform to any proposed meter. (Notice that according to the Masoretic phrasing, both line-pairs in v. 1 are balanced.) We could discuss the use of symmetry and balance/imbalance in the poem (at the levels of both the line-pair and line-grouping), and how that affects the feel of the poem. We could also discuss how the four-line form of Lam 4 has different artistic possibilities and limits for figures than do the three-line forms of Lam 1 and 2. These discussions, however, must remain outside the scope of this book. As I have shown in this section, the poems of Lam 1–4, just like the other poems in the Bible, are not metrical. The baggage of metrical approaches— “enjambed” lines that contradict the sense of the text and Masoretic phrasing, and supposed effects based on oversimplistic ideas of “rhythm”—is not consistent with the free-rhythm part-whole versification system of the Hebrew Bible. The laments of Lam 1–4 are constrained by different acrostic forms, but even where the same form is used (Lam 1 and 2), the poet maneuvers the 59. I.e., “How (the) gold is dulled.” 60. I.e., “the good gold changes.” [ 256 ] Remaining Issues
shapes and rhythms differently to create distinctive and deeply expressive artistic works.
7.3. CONSTRAINTS ON SHORT AND LONG LINES
As we have seen in the book of Lamentations, the length of poetic lines is determined by the part-whole organization of lines and line-groupings: the poems of Lam 1–3 have relatively long lines; Lam 4 (and 5) have relatively short lines. Some poems have a mix of long and short lines (Exod 15). We can now revisit the line-length questions raised in section 2.5: How short can a line of biblical poetry be, and how long can a line of biblical poetry be? Most biblical scholars do not allow for one-word poetic lines, whether they are defined as lexical words, prosodic words (which are one or two lexical words with one primary stress), or syntactic units.61 One-word lines (by any of these definitions) are certainly not the norm of biblical poetry, and a part-whole approach to line-emergence in biblical poetry rules out many of the one-word lines that have been proposed.62 One of the reasons for the rarity of one-word lines seems to be that segmentation of text into equal (or near-equal) parts seems to strengthen the parts, while segmentation into quite unequal parts tends to result in increased integration of the parts (increasing the unity of the whole)—unless the organization of the whole precludes it (compare the phrasing segments of Lam 1:1a, 2:1a, and 4:1a–b; texts 7.14, 7.17, and 7.20).63 Thus, phrasings of 4 +1 words or 3 +1 words tend to be heard as a unity rather than as two distinct parts.64 A part-whole perceptual approach to biblical versification, however, does not theoretically rule out one-word lines. The question it raises is how these lines emerge as perceivable genuine parts in the context of the whole. We saw an example of an unintegrated poetic line of one prosodic word, made up of two lexical words joined by a maqqef (halǝlû-yāh, “Praise-Yah!”), at the end of Ps 150, as part of the framing structure of the poem (text 6.16).65 But other
61. O’Connor, e.g., says that one of the “fundamental results of all previous study” is that “no unit can stand alone as a line,” where a syntactic unit is “a verb or an individual nomen” (1997: 69, 87). Cf. Cloete 1989: 209, in which suffixed verbs in Jer 5:14 and 15:6 are counted as two units. 62. E.g., a part-whole approach rules out the one-word lines mentioned in Cloete 1989: 209. 63. Cf. Tsur 2017: 13, 23 on metrical poetry: segmentation into unequal (prosodic) parts results in integration. 64. See, e.g., Jonah 2:3b, text 5.6. 65. No maqqef (hyphen) joins the same words at the beginning of the poem. The same pattern of maqqef usage occurs in the envelope structures in Pss 147–49, but not in Ps 146, where both the first and last lines of the psalm have the maqqef.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 257 ]
one-prosodic-word/two-lexical-word lines are integrated in line-groupings, as is line 10b in Proverbs 1:10–11:66 TEXT 7.21 bǝnî ʾim-yǝpattûkā ḥaṭṭāʾîm My-son, if~entice-you sinners,
10a
ְּב ִ֡ני ִאם־יְ ַפ ּ֥תּוָך ַ֜ח ָּט ִ֗אים
ʾal-tōbēʾ do-not~consent!
10b
ַאל־ּת ֵ ֹֽבא׃
ʾim-yōʾmǝrû lǝkâ ʾittānû If~they-say, “Come with-us!
11a
אמרּו֘ ְל ָ ֪כה ִ֫א ָ ּ֥תנּו ְ ֹ ִאם־י
neʾerbâ lǝdām We-will-lie-in-wait for-blood,
11b
נֶ ֶא ְר ָ ֥בה ְל ָ ֑דם
niṣpǝnâ lǝnāqî ḥinnām we-will-hide for-a-blameless-(person) without- cause. . . .
11c
נִ ְצ ְּפ ָנ֖ה ְלנ ִ ֣�ָקי ִח ָּנֽם׃
The maqqef of 10b should not be taken as evidence that the one prosodic word (two lexical words) does not make up a line. Verse 10 is a whole line-pair, in spite of the brevity of the second part. Verse 11 begins a new line-grouping that opens similarly to v. 10, but it takes a quite different turn. The brevity and semantic simplicity of line 10b (perhaps this is what the Masoretic phrasing brings out, as in, “Just don’t!”) can be appreciated especially in the context of the following nine lines, words of wickedness and folly in the voice of the sinners that keep going and going, until the father’s wise voice returns in v. 15, the apodosis of the sentence begun in 11a and the corollary to line 10b. There are also contexts in which lines of one lexical word emerge. One set of such examples occurs in the acrostics. Both Psalms 34 and 119 are acrostics arranged in strong line-pairs, each marked with a letter of the alphabet. In Ps 34, each successive letter of the alphabet begins a new line-pair, while in Ps 119, each acrostic letter repeats eight times, forming stanzas of eight line- pairs. In Ps 34:8b (ET 34:7b), a clear one-word line emerges: TEXT 7.22 ḥōnê malʾak-yhwh sābîb lîrēʾāyw Encamps the-angel-of~YHWH around those-who-fear-him,
8a
הוה ָ֨ס ִ ֤ביב ִ ֽל ֵיר ָ֗איו ֓ ָ ְח ֶֹנ֤ה ַמ ְל ַאְך־י
wayǝḥallǝṣēm and-he-delivers-them.
8b
ַו�ֽיְ ַח ְּל ֵ ֽצם׃
66. For other examples, see the second line of Prov 3:3 (made up of two line-pairs) and the first line of Ps 133:3. [ 258 ] Remaining Issues
Likewise, in Ps 119:52b, a clear one-word line emerges:67 TEXT 7.23 zākartî mišpāṭêkā mēʿôlām yhwh I-remember your-judgments from-of- old, YHWH,
52a
הוה ֗ ָ ְעֹולם׀ י ֥ ָ ָ֨ז ַכ ְ֤ר ִּתי ִמ ְׁש ָּפ ֶ ֖טיָך ֵמ
wāʾetneḥām and-I-take-comfort.
52b
ָ ֽו ֶא ְתנֶ ָ ֽחם׃
I argued in section 7.2, based on the part-whole organization of lines and line- groupings, that there are no one-word lines that emerge in Lamentations. In contrast, in these two line-pairs, the acrostic form strengthens the whole of the line-pair, which allows the one-word clause at the end to emerge as a distinct part. That is, the consistent line-pair patterning due to the shapes of language, further strengthened by the acrostic template, produces the expectation for ongoing line-pairs. This expectation prevents the integration of the very short line with the longer line. The acrostic template, like a meter, is a pattern external to the poem (although its specific form must be established contextually) that relies on language (letter) patterning. It is distinct from the Gestalt shapes of language that emerge from the words of the text, but here, it affects how they are organized. The poetic effect produced by the change in line lengths to sharply imbalanced line-pairs must be listened for in context.68 Another set of examples of one-word lines comes from the Song of Songs. In Song 8:13, the whole of the line-triple organizes simply into three parts based on phrasing: TEXT 7.24 hayôšebet baggannîm O-you-who-sit in-the-gardens,
13a
יֹוׁש ֶבת ַּבּגַ ִּ֗נים ֣ ֶ ַה
ḥăbērîm maqšîbîm lǝqôlēk companions are-listening-attentively to-your-voice—
13b
קֹולְ֖ך ֵ יבים ְל ֥ ִ ֲח ֵב ִ ֛רים ַמ ְק ִׁש
hašmîʿînî let-me-hear-(it)!
13c
יעינִ י׃ ֽ ִ ַה ְׁש ִמ
67. See also Ps 119:46b, another quite short line, which could use a maqqef to join the negative particle to the verb but does not. 68. Without context, we might wonder whether these one-word lines express a surprise or turning point in their poems. This is not the case. In Ps 34, v. 8 is the fourth consecutive line-pair speaking of the Lord’s deliverance of those who trust in him. The reader can decide: Does the change in rhythmic patterning of 34:8 bring closure to this subsection? The following verse begins, “O taste and see that YHWH is good!” Or does the change in rhythm simply keep the acrostic form of ongoing line-pairs from getting monotonous?
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 259 ]
In Song 8:6, the first four lines are arranged in an A/A/B/B four-line symmetry (with imbalance that is characteristic of the book’s poetry). The shape feels closed, such that lines 6e–f emerge as a distinct line-pair: TEXT 7.25 śîmēnî kaḥôtām ʿal-libbekā Set-me like-the-seal upon~your-heart,
6a
ל־ל ֶּ֗בָך ִ חֹותם ַע ָ֜ ימנִ י ַ ֽכ ֵ֙ ִׂש
kaḥôtām ʿal-zǝrôʿekā like-the-seal upon~your-arm,
6b
רֹועָך ֶ ֔ ְחֹות ֙ם ַעל־ז ָ ַ ּֽכ
kî-ʿazzâ kammāwet ʾahăbâ for~strong like-death (is) love,
6c
י־ע ָּז֤ה ַכ ָּ֙מוֶ ֙ת ַא ֲה ָ֔בה ַ ִ ּֽכ
qāšâ kišʾôl qinʾâ severe like-Sheol (is) jealousy.
6d
ָק ָ ׁ֥שה ִכ ְׁש ֖אֹול ִקנְ ָ ֑אה
rǝšāpêhā rišpê ʾēš Its-flashes (are) flashes-of fire,
6e
יה ִר ְׁש ֕ ֵּפי ֵ ֖אׁש ָ ְר ָׁש ֕ ֶפ
šalhebetyâ a-flame-of-Yah!69
6f
ַׁש ְל ֶ ֥ה ֶב ְתָיֽה׃
Another example, with one prosodic word and two lexical words, is found in Song 7:2 (ET 7:1): TEXT 7.26 mah-yāpû pǝʿāmayik bannǝʿālîm How~beautiful (are) your-feet in-sandals,
2a
ַמה־ּיָ ֧פּו ְפ ָע ַ ֛מיִ ְך ַּבּנְ ָע ִ ֖לים
bat-nādîb daughter-of~nobleman!70
2b
ַּבת־נָ ִ ֑דיב
ḥammûqê yǝrēkayik kǝmô ḥălāʾîm 2c The-curves-of your-hips (are) like ornaments,
�ּוקי יְ ֵר ַ֔כיִ ְך ְּכ ֣מֹו ֲח ָל ִ֔אים ֣ ֵ ַחּמ
maʿăśê yǝdê ʾāmmān a-work-of hands-of an-artist.
2d
ַמ ֲע ֵ ׂ֖שה יְ ֵ ֥די ָא ָ ּֽמן׃
All of these potential one-word lines in the Song follow the part-whole shapes of the text; it is not necessary to explain them away as relatively long unintegrated lines (grouped with the preceding segments) when they can be heard and organized quite simply as one-word lines in line-groupings. Even in the 69. On the different forms of this prosodic word in the manuscripts (as one lexical word or two) and possible meanings, see M. V. Fox 1985: 170–71. 70. I.e., “noble daughter.” Although the man is frequently portrayed as a “king” (even the most royal of kings, “Solomon”), this is a new and unique title for the woman in the Song. She has been transformed (metaphorically) into nobility. [ 260 ] Remaining Issues
often unstable line-groupings of the Song, however, these one-word lines do not sound “typical.” That is, they stand out in their brevity. In Gestalt language, we might say that each of these one-word lines is foregrounded in context, both in what it is expressing and how it is expressing it. Thus, lines of one prosodic word (whether consisting of one or two lexical words) in biblical poetry are not common, but they do occur. They emerge in various settings in which they can be organized as lines in relation to the whole (line-grouping or poem). Their functions and effects depend on context. The next question is how long lines can be in biblical poetry. As discussed in section 2.5, biblical scholars follow different rules or guidelines for how long a poetic line can be, based on different theoretical approaches to biblical poetry (such as meter or syntactic constraints). The part-whole lineation approach I have presented has resulted in some longer lines than may be typical in scholarly lineations of particular poems (e.g., 2 Sam 1:26c, text 6.31: 5 words, 13/14 syllables; Judg 5:24a, text 6.4: 6 words, 13 syllables), but these lines are still in the range of what at least some scholars consider normal. I have argued for these lineations based on specific Gestalt principles. My approach to Lamentations produces some particularly long lines, which require further comment regarding how they can be mentally organized as lines. Lamentations 2 is organized in distinct three-line acrostic groupings. Line 2:15c is particularly long (at 7 words, or 19 syllables).71 TEXT 7.27 sāpǝqû ʿālayik kappayim kol-ʿōbǝrê derek Clap at-you (their)-hands all~passers-of way;72
15a
ָ ֽס ְפ ֙קּו ָע ַל֤יִ ְך ַּכ ֙ ַּפיִ ֙ם ָּכל־ ֣עֹ ְב ֵרי ֶ ֔ד ֶרְך
šārǝqû wayyānīʿû rōʾšām ʿal-bat yǝrûšālāim 15b ִרּוׁש ָל֑ם ָ ְל־ּבת י ֖ ַ אׁשם ַע ָ֔ ֹ קּו וַ ּיָ ִנ֣עּו ר ֙ ָ ֽׁש ְר they-hiss and-shake their-head at~daughter Jerusalem: hăzōʾt hāʿîr šeyyōʾmǝrû kǝlîlat yōpî māśôś lǝkol-hāʾāreṣ “Is-this the-city (of)-which-they- used-to-say, ‘Perfect-of beauty, joy to-all~the-earth’?”
15c
רּו ְּכ ִ ֣ל ַילת ֔י ֹ ִפי ֙ אמ ְ ֹ ֲה ֣ז ֹאת ָה ֗ ִעיר ֶׁש ּֽי ל־ה ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ס ָ ָמ ׂ֖שֹוׂש ְל ָכ
Line 15c, in spite of its length, is easy to organize as a line in relation to the whole line-triple. Lines 15a and 15b are not syntactically symmetrical, but they are semantically similar and they follow similar phrasing patterns. They emerge
71. According to BHQ, because there is no textual evidence of a shorter text, the truncating emendations of BHK and BHS are “arbitrary” (123*). 72. I.e., “All who pass along the way clap their hands (derisively) at you.”
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 261 ]
clearly as two lines, with a third line expected (because of the prior three-line acrostic patterning and because they are not a symmetrically closed pair). Notice the change in person from second person (“you”) in line 15a (continued from verse 14) to third person (“daughter Jerusalem”) in line 15b. This change is key to the integration of the whole line-triple: it lessens the integration of 15a–b and provides the needed figural integration between 15b and the less-similar 15c (which has no explicit syntactic connector).73 That is, line 15c is integrated with 15b through the coreferential contiguous phrases ʿal-bat yǝrûšālāim (“at daughter Jerusalem”) and hăzōʾt hāʿîr (“is this the city?”). Line 15c might end with yōpî (“beauty”) and land in the range of “normal” line lengths (for this poem). Compared to the text as it is, however, the abbreviated line would be quite anticlimactic: the doubly expressed prior renown of Jerusalem sharply heightens the disdain of the passersby. But the “additional” phrase (māśôś lǝkol-hāʾāreṣ, “joy to all the earth”) is not heard as another line, because of the ongoing expectation for three-line, relatively closed figures. That is, the (locally) established acrostic form of the poem contributes to our ability to hear this long final line as a unity.74 Another relatively lengthy line in Lamentations, 3:56, is found in a quite different context. In this poem, each line begins with an acrostic letter, and though the acrostic letters repeat three times, the lines are often integrated across the differing acrostic letters. That is, even though lines 55–57 begin with the same letter (qof), they are not a distinct poetic unit (nor are they accompanied by the expectation that they will be). Line 56 is particularly long, at 6 words or 19/20 syllables. TEXT 7.28 qārāʾtî šimkā yhwh mibbôr taḥtiyyôt 55 I-called-on your-name, YHWH, from-pit, lowest-(places).
הוה ִמ ּ֖בֹור ַּת ְח ִּתּיֽ ֹות׃ ֔ ָ ְאתי ִׁש ְמ ָ֙ך י ִ ָק ָ ֤ר
qôlî šāmāʿǝtā ʾal-taʿlēm ʾoznǝkā lǝrawḥātî 56 lǝšawʿātî My-voice you-heard; do-not~shut your- ear to-my-relief, to-my-cry!
ל־ּת ְע ֵל֧ם ָאזְ נְ ָך֛ ְל ַרוְ ָח ִ ֖תי ַ קֹולי ָׁש ָ ֑מ ְע ָּת ַא ִ֖ ְל ַׁשוְ ָע ִ ֽתי׃
qārabtā bǝyôm ʾeqrāʾekkā ʾāmartā ʾal-tîrāʾ You-drew-near on-the-day I-called-on- you; you-said, “Do-not~fear!”
57 ל־ּת ָ ֽירא׃ ִ ָק ַ֙ר ְב ָּ֙ת ְּבי֣ ֹום ֶא ְק ָר ֶ֔אּךָ ָא ַ ֖מ ְר ָּת ַא ס
73. How change in grammatical person (often called enallage in biblical poetry) functions in relation to integration of line-groupings can be analyzed in other biblical poetic passages as well; see n37 in this chapter. 74. We might consider whether adding another phrase of prior renown would stretch this expectation for a unified line too far: four prosodic phrases are more likely to break into two groups of two (owing to the tendency of segmentation into equal parts to strengthen the parts and weaken the unity), which even the expectation for a unified line might not be strong enough to prevent. [ 262 ] Remaining Issues
Notice again that the long line, 3:56, could stop with lǝrawḥātî (“to my relief”) and land in the range of “normal” for this poem. But this proposal misses the artistry of the poem.75 As we saw in section 7.2, Lam 3 moves more continuously as a whole poem than Lam 1, 2, or 4. One thing that changes contextually in this line is the line-internal rhythm of the major prosodic phrases: the first phrase is prominently short, and the second phrase is prominently long. This line is particularly poignant and one of the climactic moments in the poem. If YHWH is said to “hear,” he does not ignore, he responds (cf. Jonah 2:3, text 5.6, in which “hearing” and “answering” are semantically symmetrical). Yet the poet expresses in his plea the jarring (now possible?) impossibility that YHWH might hear yet shut his ear.76 The long line holds together as a unity in two strategic ways: the unequal clauses resist breaking apart in context, and the final two words have strong phonological similarity that binds the final word to the preceding word (across a minor phrase boundary). Notice too that the shape of the first short clause feels strongly closed and certain (because of word order), while the lengthy second clause is in stark contrast: a plea of uncertainty with no felt grammatical closure. This uncertainty sets up the turning point in v. 57 (which returns to line-internal rhythmic “normal,” in context), in which YHWH draws near and says, “Do not be afraid!”77 Throughout the book thus far, I have argued that line structure in biblical poetry is constrained by the Gestalt perceptual principles of part-whole organization. This is one of Tsur’s two proposed cognitive constraints on the poetic line. The other is the constraint of immediate memory, which is, along with the Gestalt constraint, relevant to line length limits.78 A line of biblical poetry cannot be so long that the listener is unable to mentally organize the structure of the whole as it unfolds aurally and temporally: organizing a whole from stimuli requires somehow remembering the relevant stimuli long enough to organize them. Acknowledging that human memory and information processing constrains the length of poetic lines is not particularly controversial.
75. BHS proposes the deletion of lǝrawḥātî or lǝšawʿātî; BHQ does not comment. 76. Cf. Lam 3:8. Some translations soften this contradiction or tension in 3:56 by making the second part of the line the content of the plea (NRSV, RSV) or by understanding the first verb as a precative perfect (NJPS). This is not grammatically necessary, and it obscures the poetic artistry. 77. This is not a turning point in the situation (which remains unchanged) but rather a turning point in the poet’s hope for justice and YHWH’s intervention; cf. Lam 3:18, 21, another climactic moment in the poem. 78. Tsur uses the term “immediate memory” for what others call “short-term memory” or “working memory.” Since the latter two terms are used more specifically in particular theoretical models of memory (see, e.g., Baddeley 2012: 4, who distinguishes between short-term memory as temporary storage and working memory as a combination of both storage and manipulation), I continue to use “immediate memory” in a general, nontechnical sense for short-term memory.
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 263 ]
However, explaining how and to what extent memory constrains the lines of biblical poetry is much more complex.79 For English metrical poetry, in which the stress and syllable patterning of the words may conflict with the abstract metrical pattern, Tsur argues that the perception of poetic rhythm is dependent upon the preservation of the phonetic structure of the entire poetic line in immediate memory until the rhythmicity of the entire line is mentally resolved.80 Perception of rhythm is dependent upon the mental organization of a series of stimuli as a series of groups of stimuli, each of which must be perceived as a whole (see section 2.4). Unfortunately, Tsur’s immediate memory constraint has been misconstrued as claiming that poetic lines in general, to be perceived rhythmically, must be retained as wholes in immediate or working memory.81 While it is true that biblical poetic rhythm is dependent upon the perception of lines and line- groupings as wholes, there is no analogous rhythmic problem in biblical poetry to resolve that requires phonetic preservation of every accent and syllable. Rather, the problem to be resolved in biblical poetry is the segregation of lines and the integration of lines as groupings, based on various kinds of patterning and organization of language, which may include phonetic information. This phonetic information, however, does not necessarily have to be preserved in a “pure” phonetic state without further linguistic recoding.82 Tsur argues that the ability to perceive a metrical line as a poetic unit depends on one’s ability to complete the unit before its beginning fades from immediate memory (2008: 135). For the capacity of immediate memory, he relies on the seminal 1956 study by George Miller, who approximates the immediate memory capacity at the “magical number seven, plus or minus two.”83 79. Outside of biblical studies, besides Tsur’s work, see Turner and Pöppel 1983; Gasparov 1996: 8; Willett 2002, 2005; and Fabb 2013, 2015. Within biblical studies, see Zevit 1992 (who argues for a memory constraint using words as the basic unit) and Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 48–51. 80. According to Tsur, where line structure exploits elements of linguistic surface structure that must be stored in immediate memory until the line structure is mentally resolved, upper line lengths in metrical poetry tend to be about 10 syllables, or there is an obligatory caesura (2008: 135, 172). 81. Both Dobbs-Allsopp (2015: 50) and Fabb (2015: 182) overgeneralize Tsur’s claims and misrepresent his argument. 82. I.e., in biblical poetic lines, organization is dependent upon multiple kinds of linguistic information, not pure phonetic patterning. The phonetic patterning of biblical poetry is often bound up in other kinds of language patterning, including syntax and semantics, which involve recoding of phonetic stimuli; see the explanation of chunking and pure chunks in the discussion. For an example of phonetic patterning that must be preserved in immediate memory, see ch. 4, n39. 83. For important qualifications on what Miller was claiming, see Cowan 2000. “Miller’s reference to a magical number . . . was probably a rhetorical device. A more central focus of his article was the ability to increase the effective storage capacity through the use of intelligent grouping or ‘chunking’ of items. He ultimately suggested that the specific limit of seven probably emerged as a coincidence” (87). [ 264 ] Remaining Issues
This capacity refers to units called “chunks.” Although the number of chunks is fixed, information can be coded into larger and larger chunks. Thus, according to Miller, strategies for holding long sequences of new information in short- term memory involve more efficient chunking, not increasing capacity. Tsur cites the 7±2 capacity of immediate memory to account for the common upper line-length limit in metrical lines without caesura, which is about ten positions or syllables long across many languages (2008: 135). Based on studies of immediate memory more recent than Miller, some clarifications must be made. First, although many cognitive scientists and psychologists still accept a capacity limit for short-term memory, the accumulation of evidence favors a significantly lower capacity limit: four chunks, plus or minus one (Cowan 2000).84 One of the challenges in studying short- term memory capacity is how to isolate “pure” chunks, that is, chunks that are truly unconnected with each other.85 Cowan suggests that the reason Miller’s number seven occurs so frequently in research is that “the number seven estimates a commonly obtained, compound capacity limit, rather than a pure capacity limit in which chunking has been eliminated” (112). This could explain why Tsur finds the number 7±2 relevant to versification: the syllable as a versification unit may not be a pure chunk.86 Second, even though the concept of a capacity limit stands up to research in simple, controlled situations, understanding capacity limits in more complex situations is more difficult (Cowan et al. 2012: 496). There is evidence that short-term memory capacity cannot be accounted for solely in terms of chunks, but that it is also limited, at least in phonological capacity, by time, which is estimated at about two seconds (Baddeley 1986, 2012: 7–10).87 Understanding working memory capacity in more complex situations requires
84. For other views opposing a capacity limit, see Cowan 2000: 88, 112–14. 85. Cowan defines a chunk as “a collection of concepts that have strong associations to one another and much weaker associations to other chunks concurrently in use” (2000: 89). Thus, the series of letters “fbicbsibmirs” can be organized into the acronyms FBI, CBS, IBM, and IRS. But even these acronyms are not pure chunks: the FBI and IRS can be associated as government agencies, and CBS and IBM can be associated as large corporations. Cowan argues that “the purest capacity estimates occur when long-term memory associations are as strong as possible within identified chunks and absent between those identified chunks” (90). It is also important to note that chunking is just one of many possible ways to recode information; see, e.g., Mathy, Chekaf, and Cowan 2018: 2. 86. I am not aware of any studies that apply more recent research of chunking and capacity to metrical versification. 87. Replacing Miller’s 7±2 capacity with a two-second capacity for metrical poetic lines is an oversimplistic approach to the different kinds of complex processing that occur in the perception of poetic rhythm. Furthermore, it does not fit the actual data for the performance of lines (Fabb [2013], against Turner and Pöppel [1983], who propose a three-second line in the auditory present). Dobbs-Allsopp has taken this two-second capacity as meaningful for the rhythmic wholes of biblical poetic lines (2015: 50).
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 265 ]
models that can address this and other complexities as well (see Baddeley 2012; and Cowan et al. 2012). These models, however, are in continual development based on ongoing research: they do not translate into simple versification constraints for poetic lines.88 Third, Tsur notes that there is some evidence from widely different corpora that cognitive constraints can appear to be violated where music is involved. He explains that “music may serve as an additional coding device, alleviating the load on short-term memory” (2002: 81; see further 2017: 51–53). Thus, music or singing may allow for increased complexity in a poetic line, beyond what occurs in a spoken poetic line. Where does this leave us with respect to a memory constraint on the organizational potential and thus perceptibility of the biblical poetic line? Is there anything specific we can say about how and to what extent immediate memory affects line lengths in biblical poetry? To begin, we can restate that there is no simple immediate memory constraint on the rhythmic wholes of biblical poetic lines analogous to Tsur’s constraint for rhythmicity of metrical lines: the perception of poetic rhythm in biblical poetry depends not on “pure” phonetic data but upon the shapes and internal movements of lines and line- groupings, both of which are perceived as rhythmic “wholes.” Long lines in biblical poetry (such as in Lam 1–3) are rhythmically possible. Since biblical poetic line structure organizes various possible aspects of language, we must think about an immediate memory constraint in terms of what aspect of language is being structured. In everyday language processing, we quickly recode phonetic information into the semantic information that we remember.89 Most of the verbal information we take in is given to paraphrase, which is not “a result of forgetting, but rather . . . an essential condition or correlate of the processes by which we normally communicate and remember” (Liberman, Mattingly, and Turvey 1972: 307). In the processing of biblical poetry, however, paraphrase is not the primary end to which sounds and words and sentences efficiently lead.90 Rather, the normal recoding process is interfered with: the sounds and the words in this particular order matter, and not simply
88. Contra Fabb 2015: 171–83, which begins with a theoretical model rather than poetry data. 89. For overviews of different theories of how short-term memory functions in speech comprehension, see Garman 1990: 308–11; Gathercole and Baddeley 1993: 201–30; and Baddeley 2012. 90. Building on the idea of the Russian formalists, of Shklovsky in particular, that poetry defamiliarizes the habitual, Tsur writes, “Quite a few (but by no means all) central poetic effects are the result of some drastic interference with, or at least delay of, the regular course of cognitive processes, and the exploitation of its effects for aesthetic purposes. In other words, the cognitive correlates of poetic processes must be described in three respects: the normal cognitive processes; some kind of modification or disturbance of these processes; and their reorganization according to different principles” (2008: 4–5). [ 266 ] Remaining Issues
for pragmatic semantic purposes. Even in line-groupings that are organized semantically (and not phonetically or syntactically), the lines must be organized in part-whole relationships, not simply in continuous paraphrase: a certain order matters. Organization by serial order requires certain tasks of memory that paraphrase does not.91 While we may think of phonological coding as short term and semantic coding as long term, short-term memory may be based on either phonological coding or semantic coding (Baddeley 2012: 5). Still, the organization of particular sounds in poetic line structure typically places more of a demand on immediate memory than the organization of ordered semantically coded components. Generally, lines in biblical poetry that exploit surface-structure sound similarities for line structure seem to have an upper limit of distance between similar sounds of about 11 syllables (although these sound similarities are often combined with other kinds of repetition).92 For example, Exodus 15:12–13 (text 4.14) is organized by line-initial sound similarity: TEXT 7.29 nāṭîtā yǝmînǝkā tiblāʿēmô ʾāreṣ You-stretch-out your-right-hand, swallowed-them earth.93
12
יְמינְ ָ֔ך ִּת ְב ָל ֵ ֖עמֹו ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃ ֣ ִ ית ָ֙ נָ ִ֙ט
nāḥîtā bǝḥasdǝkā ʿam-zû gāʾāltā You-lead in-your-loyal-love people-whom you-redeemed.
13a
ית ְב ַח ְס ְּדָך֖ ַעם־ז֣ ּו ּגָ ָ ֑א ְל ָּת ָ נָ ִ ֥ח
nēhaltā bǝʿozzǝkā ʾel-nǝwê qodšekā You-guide in-your-strength [them] to~dwelling-of your-holiness.
13b
נֵ ַ ֥ה ְל ָּת ְב ָעּזְ ָך֖ ֶאל־נְ ֵו֥ה ָק ְד ֶ ֽׁשָך׃
To organize line 13a in relation to line 12, nāḥîtā (“you-lead”) must be heard as similar to nāṭîtā (“you-stretch”) by sounds/morphology (since they are not similar semantically). The two words are separated by 11/12 syllables, and the clause-initial placement makes the perception of similarity more likely. In the following example of relatively long lines, Jonah 2:3b–c (with lines of 14 and 12 syllables), the symmetrical line-pair does not rely on
91. On the task of retaining serial order and immediate memory, see Baddeley 2012: 9–10. 92. I made this observation in my dissertation (Grosser 2013), and though I have not pursued further refinement of it, I have not found evidence to contradict it. Yet unlike Tsur’s explanation for metrical line lengths, syllable counts in free-rhythm biblical poetry cannot be viewed as slots or chunks; at best, they are an approximation of articulatory duration. On articulatory duration and immediate memory, see Gathercole and Baddeley 1993: 9. 93. I.e., “the earth swallowed them.”
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 267 ]
surface-structure patterning between the lines.94 The lines are organized by semantic symmetry: TEXT 7.30 qārāʾtî miṣṣārâ lî ʾel-yhwh wayyaʿănēnî I-called-out from-distress to-me95 to~YHWH, and-he-answered-me.
3b
הו֖ה ַו�ּֽיַ ֲע ֵנ֑נִ י ָ ְאתי ִמ ָ ּ֥צ ָרה ִ ֛לי ֶאל־י ִ ָ֠ק ָר
mibbeṭen šǝʾôl šiwwaʿtî šāmaʿtā qôlî From-the-belly-of Sheol I-cried-for-help; you-heard my-voice.
3c
קֹולי׃ ֽ ִ ִמ ֶּב ֶ֧טן ְׁש ֛אֹול ִׁשַּו ְ֖ע ִּתי ָׁש ַ ֥מ ְע ָּת
What is important in this discussion of an immediate memory constraint in actual biblical poems is not some “magic” number to impose upon biblical lines (such as eleven) but rather an awareness of what aspect(s) of language must be organized by the listener/reader for proposed poetic structure to be perceived and how that organization unfolds. Not only does the mind have to remember stimuli in order to organize them; the mind’s subjective organization of stimuli also affects whether and how they are remembered (see the experiment in Arnheim 1974: 64–66). That is, perception and memory are linked: the organization of the whole affects how the mind perceives and remembers details. The task of lineation must start with listening for part-whole organization according to plausible Gestalt principles, not with a theoretical memory constraint. We must observe what the biblical poets actually do and attempt to account for how it could be heard, not assume that we know what they can or cannot do. As an example, we can revisit 2 Samuel 1:21d–e: TEXT 7.31 21d
ּבֹורים ֔ ִ ִִ ּ֣כי ָ ׁ֤שם נִ גְ ַעל֙ ָמ ֵג�֣ן ּג
māgēn šāʾûl bǝlî māšûaḥ baššāmen 21e the-shield-of Saul, not anointed with-the-oil.
מׁשוח ַּב ָ ּֽׁש ֶמן׃ ֥ ָמ ֵג�֣ן ָׁש ֔אּול ְּב ִ ֖לי
kî šām nigʿal māgēn gibbôrîm for there was-defiled shield-of warriors,
This line-pair is arguably arranged in chiastic (ABC/CBA) symmetry of multiple aspects of language.96 The A component is the sh-a-m-n sound pattern in bold (note the historical forms: *sham(m) n-/*shamn), the B component is the 94. On the internal cohesion of these long lines, see ch. 5, n22. Cf. the relatively long lines of Ps 103:17a (15 syllables) and Mic 4:5b (19 syllables), which do not rely on surface structure patterning between the lines of the line-pairs. 95. I.e., “from my distress.” 96. Holladay (1970: 174–76) has noted the chiastic arrangement of the lines here. Although I do not agree with all the details of his analysis, I do agree that the lines are structured chiastically. [ 268 ] Remaining Issues
passive predicate (“defiled”/“not anointed”), and the C component is the two- word “shield” phrase (māgēn gibbôrîm/māgēn šāʾûl). The question is, is the phonetic correspondence (the A component)—which does not even correspond precisely with word boundaries—likely to be perceived? If the perception of the correspondence is based upon a 19-syllable “pure” phonetic memory capacity of the whole line-pair, the answer is probably no. However, the line-pair emerges not simply as phonetic stimuli but as organized language. According to Gestalt theory, it is the organization of the whole, the big picture, that allows us to process incredible detail. If the listener/reader organizes māgēn šāʾûl (“shield-of Saul”) in relation to māgēn gibbôrîm (“shield-of warriors”), which is likely because of the word repetition, it is not unlikely that the listener/reader will organize bǝlî māšûaḥ (“not anointed”) in chiastic relation to nigʿal (“was-defiled”)—since chiasm is a common line-pair convention. If the words are arranged chiastically in this way as they unfold, the listener/reader is expecting a correspondence between the end and the beginning and thus, is more likely to hear one. Furthermore, this chiasm is in the context of a song. It is possible that the chiasm, including the phonetic correspondence, might have been brought out in performance. For another example, we can revisit Judges 5:19: TEXT 7.32 bāʾû mǝlākîm nilḥāmû Came kings, they fought—
19a
ָ ּ֤באּו ְמ ָל ִכ ֙ים נִ ְל ָ֔חמּו
ʾāz nilḥămû malkê kǝnaʿan then fought kings-of Canaan
19b
מּו ַמ ְל ֵכ֣י ְכ ַ֔נ ַען ֙ ָ ֤אז נִ ְל ֲח
bǝtaʿnak ʿal-mê mǝgiddô at-Taanach by~the-waters-of Megiddo—
19c
ל־מי ְמגִ ּ֑דֹו ֣ ֵ ְּב ַת ְע ַנ�ְ֖ך ַע
beṣaʿ kesep lōʾ lāqāḥû gain-of silver did-not they-take.
19d
ֶ ּ֥ב ַצע ֶּכ ֶ֖סף ֥ל ֹא ל ָ ֽ�ָקחּו׃
In my earlier discussion of this verse (text 5.37), I proposed that the line- final lāqāḥû (“take”) in 19d might be paired with nilḥāmû (“fought”) in 19a (morphologically and phonologically) and thus bring closure to the four-line whole. I argued this based on how the organized whole unfolds, but there is admittedly quite a distance between the two words. The proposal for a perceptible correspondence may need to be bolstered by the necessity of an effective performance of the whole line-grouping (which might, e.g., foreground these words).97 This poem, too, is a song. 97. Consider, e.g., how the foregrounding of Song 2:5c (through its lack of integration) makes the line more memorable and thus more likely to be recalled when it is heard again in 5:8c (texts 7.12 and 7.13).
I n t e g r at i o n , L a m e n tat i o n s , L i n e L e n g t h s
[ 269 ]
Although there seems to be a hard limit on the cognitive capacity of immediate memory, there is not a hard limit on the creativity of poets. Furthermore, memory and perceptual organization are inextricably linked: organization affects which details are remembered and how they are remembered. For proposed poetic structures that place higher demands on immediate memory, it is important to consider what the nature of those demands is and how the perception of details might be possible in relation to the whole.
7.4. CONCLUSION
As this chapter has demonstrated, the cognitive approach of this book is able not only to account for the poetic structure of lines and line-groupings but also to address other important issues of biblical poetry. Integration addresses how distinct parts form larger wholes: how lines come together as line-groupings, how line-groupings come together to form stanzas and poems, and furthermore, how relatively unintegrated lines can still emerge within a part-whole line/line-grouping system. Understanding integration in biblical poetry is essential to hearing/reading biblical poems and exploring their artistry. The issue of meter has plagued biblical poetry study for centuries, and in the modern era, the biggest stronghold of metrical confusion is Lamentations 1–4. A Gestalt part-whole approach to lineation provides a consistent way to understand how lines and rhythms emerge in all poems of the Hebrew Bible, including the laments of Lamentations. Rhythmic patterning does not determine the lines; rather, rhythm emerges along with the lines, as lines and line-groupings can be heard as “whole” rhythmic units. A Gestalt part-whole approach additionally provides insights into why the poems of Lamentations 1–5 feel so different from each other. A cognitive constraints model (both Gestalt constraints and immediate memory) can account for how lines that are quite short as well as lines that are quite long can emerge in biblical poetry within the same system. The importance of an immediate memory constraint lies not in a simple delimitation of how long lines can be but rather, in assessing the plausibility of the perceptibility of proposed poetic structures and effects. The kind of linguistic information being organized is relevant to this question, as well as how the organizational structure of the whole unfolds. The final major issue this book addresses comprises the next chapter: the distinction between verse-poetry and prose, as well as aspects of their interrelatedness.
[ 270 ] Remaining Issues
CHAPTER 8
Biblical Poetry and Prose
How we approach biblical poetry has ramifications for how we approach biblical prose. In this chapter I clarify certain issues related to prose and poetry in the Bible, and I point in some promising directions for further research. In the first section, I discuss verse and prose as modes of structure, how they are similar and how they are different, as well as the relationship between verse and poetry. In the following two sections, I address problems with how biblical poetry and prose are often approached: confusion regarding poetic structure and poetic function (related to Roman Jakobson’s approach to parallelism), and the problem of a poetic features approach for identifying biblical poetry. The final three sections address issues specific to reading biblical texts: whether a passage is prose or poetry, the presence of “parallelism” in biblical narrative, and elevated prose style and the mixing of the structural modes in the prophetic books.
T
hroughout this book I have accepted a prose-verse distinction in the texts of the Hebrew Bible. Although prose is harder to positively define (quite simply, it is “not in lines”), no one disputes that it exists in the Bible. Verse is more straightforward in definition (“in lines”), yet its existence in the Bible has required much more justification, since lineation is not resolved through the textual format or through templates external to the poetry. This book has laid a cognitive theoretical and contextual foundation for the reality of a free- rhythm poetic versification system of the Hebrew Bible, based on patterned arrangement of language that is plausibly perceptible. The cognitive constraint (or the set of mental shortcuts) of Gestalt principles makes the perception of the line possible without a template, while the cognitive constraint of immediate memory limits how extensive the aural, temporal surface-structure patterning can be. I have argued both that the biblical poetic line is a reality anchored in the text and that its mental emergence is necessary for hearing
Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0008
biblical poetry and experiencing its effects. With this foundation in place, we can explore one final issue: the distinction of prose from verse-poetry in the Bible and just as importantly, some aspects of their interrelatedness.
8.1. PROSE AND VERSE, VERSE AND POETRY
Verse and prose differ in how they are structured: verse is structured in lines, and prose is not. A description of verse that fits both biblical free-rhythm verse and metrical verse includes two elements: line structure and rhythmic order that is integrally related to it (Brogan 1993g: 1348).1 Prose can still be performed and perceived rhythmically (as evidenced by the Masoretic cantillation markings for the entire Hebrew Bible), but verse rhythm is distinct in that it is intricately connected to the line. Prose is more difficult to define than verse. We cannot say of biblical prose that it is distinctively organized “in paragraphs” rather than lines, since paragraphs were marked by space in the manuscripts for both verse and prose.2 Neither is it accurate to say that biblical prose is structured semantically, while biblical verse is structured based on patterning of all aspects of language. The organizational patterns of biblical prose narrative are not limited to semantic patterning (as we will see in the discussion of Gen 1 in section 8.5). The potential use of surface-structure patterning in biblical verse is different from surface-structure patterning in biblical prose because in verse it is constrained by perceptual organization and memory with respect to the line. It is also not quite right to say that biblical prose is structured “continuously,” while biblical verse is structured in part-whole relationships. Biblical prose too can be arranged in part-whole relationships (cf. Sternberg 1985: 2), such as symmetry, but the distinction is whether these part-whole relationships have their basic structure in lines and line-groupings.3 The distinguishing characteristic of biblical prose, then, is the structural absence of lines and line-groupings. 1. Brogan’s 1993 article “Verse and Prose” in the New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics contrasts significantly with Steele’s article in the 2012 4th edition. Steele 2012 connects verse with metricality and measure: verse “organizes speech into units of a specific length and rhythmical character” (1507)—a description that inherently excludes biblical verse and probably other traditions as well. Without the concept of the line, the prose/verse distinction is reduced to an antithesis of rhythm: rhythmical organization vs. rhythmical freedom (1507). Compare Brogan: “If the single crucial formal feature of verse, lineation, is removed, rhythmic prose and versification are distinguishable only in degree of rhythmicity, and may well not be distinguishable at all” (1993e: 980). In biblical literature, we cannot speak of a prose-verse distinction of rhythm apart from the line: poetic rhythm emerges with and depends upon the emergence of the line. 2. On the division of the text into paragraphs and verses, see Yeivin 1980: 40–43. 3. Biblical prose narrative, too, is organized language, “manifold patterns imposed on time” (Sternberg 1985: 45; see also 195–96 on literature as a “time-art”). [ 272 ] Remaining Issues
The fact that verse and prose are distinguished by the presence or absence of lines may lead us to think that prose is “ordinary” and verse is “unique.” Or, in linguistic terms, it may seem that verse is structurally “marked” and prose is structurally “unmarked.”4 This is not accurate, however. In broader literature, Brogan cautions against viewing prose as the “neutral ground” from which verse deviates, since prose itself is an “artificial and stylized form,” and both verse and prose (whether oral or written) are verbal forms that deviate from “ordinary” speech (1993g: 1349). Furthermore, if prose were the “ordinary” or “unmarked” form, we would expect it to be nearly language-universal. In actuality, though, verse has developed in nearly every known culture, whereas prose has not, and prose seems to develop later than verse in the history of a culture’s literature. (This appears to be true of ancient Israel and its neighbors: while the verse tradition of Ugarit is similar to that of the Bible, there is no evidence of literary prose developing at Ugarit as it did in Israel.)5 The notion of whether prose or verse is “ordinary” is cultural and localized in time and place. We must not automatically associate verse with orality and prose with written texts. Both verse and prose traditions may be either oral or written,6 though the development of writing clearly does impact the development of both verse and prose in a culture (as have the printing press and digital technology) (Brogan 1993g: 1349). All the texts of the Hebrew Bible, both prose and verse, have been preserved only in written form, but they are still highly aural in nature, originating in a predominantly oral culture and functioning in a predominantly oral culture even in written form. “Orality” has many dimensions (Wendland 2013: 20–23). It may refer to composition and transmission, or it may refer to the consistently aural experience of texts—for both the listener and the reader/performer. This latter sense is particularly important for understanding both the verse and prose written texts of the Hebrew Bible.7 Verse and prose are “modes” of structure; they are not genres (Brogan 1993g: 1348). Whether prose or verse is used for a particular verbal work is based in convention, in each culture’s sense of what should be composed in verse as opposed to prose. In the ancient and medieval world, diverse treatises on science, math, history, philosophy, rhetoric, and grammar were cast in verse, which is no longer the case in the modern era (1349). Narrative verse is common from Ugarit and ancient Greece, but for narrative in the Hebrew 4. On this view of verse and prose, see Lotz 1972: 1. For a summary of the linguistic theory of markedness, see Crystal 2003: 282–84. 5. The historical development of prose in relation to verse does not mean that we can date biblical texts relative to one another based on whether they are verse or prose. I.e., we cannot simply assume that poems within narrative are older forms than the prose; cf. Vayntrub 2019: 20–23. 6. On the oral prose literature of Africa, see Finnegan 2012. 7. On biblical oral-literary studies, see ch. 2, n7.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 273 ]
Bible, prose is consistently used. Songs in the Bible are composed in verse, but prayers in the Bible are composed in either verse or prose. Thus, verse and prose, cross-culturally and throughout history, are modes of structure that can be used for various genres that may or may not be considered “verbal art.” Verse in the modern English-speaking world, however, has come to be used almost exclusively for “poetic” compositions, such that the word “poetry” can be used as a near-synonym for “verse” (cf. Longenbach 2008: xi).8 Often, however, there are further connotations associated with the English idea of poetry besides poetic language structured in verse lines, such as metrical or rhythmic assumptions, philosophical ideas of the nature of poetry, and judgments of value or truth. These aspects of the English word “poetry” should not be uncritically imported into the various genres of biblical Hebrew verse. “Poetry” can be quite a loaded term, as a history of the idea of biblical poetry makes apparent.9 Yet the concept of poetry as language organized in lines with verbal artistry, with the potential for certain effects unique to its being structured in lines, is shared by the various biblical Hebrew compositions structured in verse that I have been calling poetry.10 “These words in this order” have a potential for effects that “those words in that order” do not, and this potential for effects is exploited by the ancient artists. Biblical poetry serves aesthetic ends and other ends as well, including instruction, expression of emotion, and exhortation, to name a few (cf. Brogan 1993d: 939). It is organization of language in lines and line-groupings that gives biblical poetry its potential for “extension and intensification of meaning” and unique effects (940). The distinction between verse and prose, then, is not of ends but of structures and potential effects (Brogan 1993g: 1348). Verse can achieve effects that prose cannot, even if both are verbal art, because of line structure. But 8. “The two modes, v[erse] and pr[ose], intersect the concept ‘poetry’ and its opposite, nonpoetry. Crossing these yields four categories, which Eng[lish] usage does not capture at all well. Intensified or heightened lang[uage] in verse-form, i.e., ‘v[erse] poetry,’ represents what most people automatically think of as ‘poetry’; quotidian lang[uage] in verseform is ‘v[erse] nonpoetry,’ sometimes accepted as poetry but considered doggerel . . . , sometimes denied to be poetry at all. Heightened lang[uage] not in v[erse] is sometimes called ‘poetry’ or, better, ‘poetic,’ and if it has rhythmic or sound patterning at all, sometimes ‘prose poetry’ . . . ; quotidian lang[uage] not in v[erse] is, for lack of a term, just ‘pr[ose]’ ” (Brogan 1993g: 1346). 9. See the surveys by Kugel (1981), Berlin (1991), and Vayntrub (2019: 19–102). Vayntrub describes how the “essential aspect” of biblical poetry according to scholarship could variously be located in audience reception, the poet’s genius, the original performance context, or its structuring patterns (217). 10. As Kugel notes, there is no word for poetry in the Hebrew Bible, though there are a number of words used for different genres: different types of psalms, hymns, and songs (1981: 69). Nor does the Hebrew Bible have a word for literature or verbal art (Sternberg 1985: 43), or for prose, or for verse. Just because a language does not have a word for something, however, does not mean that its speakers do not grasp the concept; see ch. 3, n1. [ 274 ] Remaining Issues
within a particular culture’s literary tradition, we should not be surprised if the verbal art in verse shares similarities with the verbal art in prose. Of African epic, Ben-Amos writes, “The literariness of African verbal art does not depend upon its similarities or differences with other literary traditions. Rather, it is possible to discern its aesthetic qualities, as the African peoples do, by relating epics to other forms of communication in culture and to the language of other verbal performances. The poetics of the African epic, in other words, has its basis in the poetic system of each culture” (1980: 69). Biblical poetry, too, must be read in the context of the poetics of biblical prose verbal art, and vice versa, just as native audiences would have had that context. However biblical prose verbal art came to be, it functioned alongside biblical poetry, that is, verbal art in verse. The patterning and repetition in biblical prose is organically related to the organization of biblical verse.
8.2. BIBLICAL PARALLELISM: POETIC STRUCTURE AND POETIC FUNCTION CONFUSION
Within biblical scholarship, studies differ as to whether they treat parallelism as an aspect of poetic structure or as an aspect of biblical style. These differences arise from a lack of consensus about what constitutes parallelism in actual biblical texts (poetry as well as prose) and also from confusion stemming from the linguistic outworking of parallelism outside of biblical studies. In broader work in literature and linguistics, most notably that of Roman Jakobson, parallelism has come to be understood in two different but related ways: first, as a specific convention of verse in certain (especially oral) traditions, such as biblical Hebrew poetry, and second, as a universal characteristic of all poetic language.11 Key to Jakobson’s understanding of both kinds of parallelism is the idea of patterned equivalences and binary opposition (1987: 73, 121; cf. Berlin 1985: 13). The former sense of parallelism, called canonic parallelism, refers to “the specific manifestations of this binary principle as a strict, consistent and pervasive means of composition” (J. J. Fox 2014: 20; cf. Jakobson 1987: 83).12 It is this former sense of parallelism that I have been
11. Berlin’s 1985 study brought Jakobson’s linguistic study of parallelism squarely into biblical scholarship. Berlin takes a broad approach to the term “parallelism”; Nel and Weber likewise follow Jakobson, but they prefer a narrower use of “parallelism” for interdependence across lines and parts of lines, calling the broader principle “recurrence” (Nel 1992: 138; Weber 2012: 166). Two recent studies within biblical scholarship that draw from Jakobson’s work include Ayars 2018; and Notarius 2018. 12. Jakobson does not distinguish between how canonical parallelism functions in metrical poetries and nonmetrical poetries, a problem that continues in comparative studies; see 1987: 125, 145–47, 169. With regard to biblical texts, he assumes that the Song of Songs is metrical (174–75). When comparing “canonically parallel” poetries, it
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 275 ]
implicitly and explicitly critiquing throughout this book as inadequate for understanding the versification system of biblical poetry. Perhaps other poetries of the world fit this binary model of verse structure, but biblical poetry does not.13 The structure of biblical poetry is based not upon a binary principle of equivalences but rather upon part-whole relationships of shapes or figures. Similarity and symmetry (a specific kind of similarity) are important principles, but they are not the only principles by which biblical poetry is structured. Furthermore, similarity and symmetry are perceptual principles: neither can be reduced to binary relationships of equivalence.14 As in everyday perception, the similarities and symmetries of biblical poetry occur to different degrees, a factor that contributes to the potential for such diverse poetic effects in biblical poetry. Patterns of language in biblical poetry are not simply data of textual equivalences; these patterns must be perceptible in the context of the patterned whole. For example, an ABAB pattern may be a pattern of symmetry or a pattern of continuity, depending upon the organization of the whole. “Parallelism”—whether conceptualized as equivalence, repetition, or recurrence—is inadequate for addressing these key Gestalt distinctions of structure.15 A number of scholars have challenged Jakobson’s structural analyses of poems based on questionable perceptibility of equivalences (Culler 2012: 1364; for discussions in biblical poetry, see Berlin 1985: 9–10; and Landy 1992: 106–7). “Equivalences” are irrelevant to biblical poetic structure, and thus to effects, if they cannot somehow be perceived in aural, temporal
is essential to consider whether they are metrical or not, i.e., whether one or multiple organizational principles of composition are involved. 13. English accentual-syllabic meter requires phonological patterning based on the binary opposition of “stress” vs. “unstress” (section 2.4), but the perception of the line as a whole cannot be reduced to binary opposition (Tsur 2008: 155–56). In biblical poetry, semantic pairs are line structural insofar as they are part of larger patterns. For a discussion of word pairs in biblical poetry, see Berlin 1985: 65–80. Berlin likewise argues that for biblical poetry “it is not word pairs that create parallelism. It is parallelism that activates word pairs” (79). For comparison, see J. J. Fox’s study of the semantics of the canonical parallelism of the ritual poetry of the Rotenese (including a discussion of binary categories; 2014: 149–80). 14. For Jakobson’s discussions of similarity and symmetry, and how these concepts relate to equivalence, see 1987: 71, 85, 127, 132, 163, 178. 15. Weber, drawing upon the literary critic Lotman (1972), refers to the text as a whole, “a multidimensional construction crisscrossed by correlations” (2012: 167). With regard to the selection and weighing of recurrences, however, Weber postulates basic rules that conform to structural poetics, not Gestalt (cognitive) poetics based on the organization of the whole (176–77). See, e.g., his principles of accumulation/degree and multiplicity: “The more often elements are repeated or the bigger the extent of repetition, the more importance should be attached to their relevance for meaning. . . . The number of different levels of speech and structure involved in the recurrence has a direct bearing on the relevance of the repetition in terms of meaning” (177). In Gestalt theory, it is not the quantity of potential correspondences but the organization of the whole that allows us to structure and interpret correspondences. [ 276 ] Remaining Issues
poetry. The perception of correspondences that are relevant to structure is dependent upon the mental organization of the whole. In the latter broad sense, parallelism for Jakobson is “an ever-present aspect of poetic language,” “an extension of the binary principle of opposition to the phonemic, syntactic, and semantic levels of expression” (J. J. Fox 1977: 60). That is, for Jakobson, all poetry is characterized by parallelism. His famous formulation of the poetic function states that it “projects the principle of equivalence from the axis of selection into the axis of combination” (1987: 71). The poetic function, according to Jakobson, is the dominant function in poetry, but it is not limited to poetry. This has enabled various biblical scholars to view “parallelism” as an aspect of biblical style in general. Since parallelism occurs to different degrees in both poetry and prose, biblical poetry and prose are viewed as a continuum, like the poetic function (cf. Berlin 1996). The basic problem with this approach is that it has obscured the biblical poetic line. Since parallelism cannot account for the biblical poetic line in its many diverse forms, rather than trying to account for the line, this approach shifts the focus from the line to “poeticity” or style (cf. Kugel 1981: 85). But we cannot understand the style or poetics of biblical poetry if we do not understand the line, and how patterning works within it, as I have been demonstrating throughout this book. To understand “biblical style”—which I prefer to approach as poetics—we must refine our understandings of verse genres and prose genres in light of each other. A continuum model of biblical style lacks the tools of a comparative poetics, which should strive to understand both the similarities and the differences of biblical verse and biblical prose genres.16 A poetics approach requires careful contextual analysis of different uses of repetition and patterning, with attention to aural and temporal perceptibility in both verse and prose (e.g., modeled by Sternberg 1985 for narrative).
8.3. THE PROBLEM OF A FEATURES APPROACH TO IDENTIFYING BIBLICAL POETRY
As discussed in section 1.3, Lowth observed that short divisions of sentences fit together in various ways in biblical poetry, thereby creating rhythmical cadences. He noticed these cadences most clearly in parallelistic passages, and thus, “parallelism” became for him the primary identifying feature of biblical poetry. Subsequently, parallelism—in its various formulations by biblical scholars, with further impetus from Jakobson’s poetic function—became 16. This raises the question of whether the qualities called aesthetic/artistic/literary/ poetic (which Sternberg considers equivalent ideas, 1985: 40, 43) can be viewed on a continuum at all in the texts of the Bible, as some biblical scholars have proposed. Is all biblical prose really less “artistic” than biblical poetry?
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 277 ]
viewed by many as not just the primary feature of biblical poetry but the defining feature of biblical poetry. The problem is that the idea of parallelism as the defining feature of biblical poetry simply cannot stand up to the textual evidence of such a diversity of biblical poetic lines. “Parallelism” would have to be defined so broadly that it is no longer a distinguishing feature of biblical poetry at all. Currently parallelism is typically considered one important feature of biblical poetry among others. It is fairly standard for scholars to present “features of biblical poetry” as a guide to what is poetry or prose in the Bible based on occurrence and density of these features, which are less typical of prose.17 Besides grammatical and semantic parallelism, these features of biblical poetry include various other kinds of repetition (key words, grammatical forms, sounds); scarcity of “prose particles” and terseness;18 paratactic style and the scarcity of wayyiqtol verb forms; ellipsis, especially verbal; loose or free word order; rare, archaic, or archaizing vocabulary and morphology; and imagery, including metaphor and simile. I have argued throughout this book for an approach that can replace “parallelism,” which is inadequate in part because it encompasses too many kinds of phenomena. What is often called grammatical and semantic parallelism is better accounted for through the Gestalt principles of similarity and symmetry. But parallelism aside, this “feature” approach to poetry is deeply flawed: features are not necessarily differentiae.19 Features must be heard as functioning in a particular context, and in order to be indicative of biblical poetry, they must somehow be related to emergent line structure. Features do not determine function without context, nor do features necessarily result in poetic lines and effects.20 Each of these “features” of biblical poetry is exploited in particular contextual ways in the poetic structure of lines and line-groupings. What matters for structure and effects is not the quantity or density of these features but how they function in context. We have seen a number of examples of different kinds of repetition being organized in different ways in line-groupings and poems, but in each case (whether words or sounds or grammatical forms), 17. See, e.g., Strawn 2018: 238; Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 67–74; Couey 2015: 28–40; Berlin 1985: 16; and 1996: 302; and Watson 2005: 46–47. 18. The so-called “prose particles” include the definite article, relative marker, and definite object marker. The study of Andersen and Forbes (1983) shows that there is a higher occurrence of these particles in prose books than poetic books, with some of the prophetic books falling statistically in the middle. 19. See Sternberg 1985: 39 on features and universals of narrative, which likewise are not differentiae. 20. Cf. Sternberg’s “Proteus Principle”: “the resistance to any automatic linkage of form and function. Given the appropriate contexts, the same means may serve different semantic and rhetorical ends, and different means (including precise and deviant repetition) the same end” (1985: 437). [ 278 ] Remaining Issues
the key to how the repetition is heard or structured is the emerging organization of the whole. The terseness of biblical poetry is related to its potential for memorable surface-structure organization, yet the so-called “prose particles” can also be used effectively for surface-structure organization (as in the sound similarity in the opening line of Ps 1, text 4.18, or in Song 2:7d, text 7.7), or for syntactic disambiguation within poetically structured language (as in Num 23:10, text 5.12).21 Paratactic style is often conducive to the part-whole structuring of line-groupings and stanzas, yet hypotactic style (including wayyiqtol verb forms that are common in narrative) can be used strategically in poetic structure as well (as in Deut 32:22, text 4.15, and Jonah 2:4a, 7c [ET 2:3a, 6c], text 6.5). Syntactic ellipsis is a feature of ordinary language use in coordinate structures, and biblical poetry frequently exploits it for line structure, in both integrating structures (by strengthening the shapes of symmetries) and dis-integrating structures (by increasing the fragmentation of coordinating units).22 Poetic structure uses typical and atypical word order in a great variety of structural ways, both to strengthen or weaken the shapes of individual lines and to strengthen or weaken the shapes of line-groupings. Word order in biblical poetry is not simply free: word order impacts the shapes of phrases and clauses. But poetic word order does not rule out pragmatic function; poetics and pragmatics are not mutually exclusive, and they are contextual.23 Even rare vocabulary and morphology may be related to poetic structure (cf. the morphology of Judg 5:10a–c, text 5.30, and 2 Sam 1:21a/c, text 5.14). Furthermore, while imagery often serves other artistic purposes, even imagery can serve structural functions, such as semantically organized symmetry (as in Judg 5:25, text 5.7) or poetic units that are integrated through imagery (e.g., Ps 23, text 9.1, and Gen 49:27, ch. 9, n15). Distribution of features cannot differentiate between prose and poetry. How these features contextually contribute to the emergent structure of poetic units (lines, line-groupings, stanzas, and poems) is the differentiating factor of poetry.
21. In contrast, Milgrom argues that the particle does not occur in ancient poetry, so he emends Num 23:10 (1990: 197). 22. Verb gapping does occur in biblical prose (Kugel 1981: 322; and Moshavi 2010: 152–55; contra O’Connor 1997: 122–29), though much less frequently than in poetry. Miller-Naudé argues that biblical poetry and prose differ in three ways with regard to ellipsis: (1) “the direction of deletion (poetry allows backwards ellipsis from final ellipsis sites)”; (2) “the semantic relations of non-gapped constituents (poetry allows non-contrastive, coreferential constituents)”; and (3) “locality (poetry allows a non-local antecedent)” (C. L. Miller 2007a: 177). The second and third, she notes, result from parallelism, which I would attribute specifically to symmetrical line structures (see ch. 5, n72). 23. For a different, linguistic approach to differentiating between pragmatics and poetics in word-order variation in biblical poetry, see Lunn 2006.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 279 ]
8.4. DISTINGUISHING CONTEXTUALLY BETWEEN PROSE AND VERSE
This brings us to the practical question of determining whether a particular biblical passage is structured as prose or verse. Some passages are clearly agreed upon (e.g., Judg 4 is narrative prose while Judg 5:2–31a is set apart as a song in verse), but quite a few passages are not.24 One such passage that has recently been discussed is Exodus 34:6–7.25 TEXT 8.1 א ֒ ל־ּפנָ יו֘ וַ ּיִ ְק ָר ָ הו֥ה׀ ַע ָ ְוַ ּיַ ֲע ֙ב ֹר י wayyaʿăbōr yhwh ʿal-pānāyw wayyiqrāʾ And-passed-by YHWH before~his-face and-proclaimed: ב־ח ֶסד וֶ ֱא ֶ ֽמת׀׃ נ ֵ ֹ֥צר ֶ֙ח ֶס ֙ד ָל ֲא ָל ֔ ִפים נ ֵ ֹׂ֥שא ָעֹו֛ ן וָ ֶ ֖פ ַׁשע ֥ ֶ הוה ֵ ֥אל ַר ֖חּום וְ ַחּנ֑ ּון ֶ ֥א ֶרְך ַא ַ ּ֖פיִם וְ ַר ֔ ָ ְהו֣ה׀ י ָ ְי ל־ר ֵּב ִ ֽעים׃ ִ ל־ׁש ֵּל ִ ׁ֖שים וְ ַע ִ ל־ּב ֵנ֣י ָב ִ֔נים ַע ְ ל־ּבנִ ֙ים וְ ַע ָ וְ ַח ָּט ָ ֑אה וְ נַ ֵּק ֙ה ֣ל ֹא יְ נַ ֶ ּ֔קה ּפ ֵ ֹ֣קד׀ ֲעֹו֣ ן ָא ֗בֹות ַע
yhwh yhwh ʾēl raḥûm wǝḥannûn ʾerek ʾappayim wǝrab-ḥesed weʾĕmet nōṣēr ḥesed lāʾălāpîm nōśēʾ ʿāwōn wāpešaʿ wǝḥaṭṭāʾâ wǝnaqqê lōʾ yǝnaqqê pōqēd ʿăwōn ʾābôt ʿal-bānîm wǝʿal-bǝnê bānîm ʿal-šillēšîm wǝʿal-ribbēʿîm “YHWH, YHWH! A-God compassionate and-gracious, slow-of anger and-great-of~loyal-love and-constancy, keeping loyal-love to-the- thousands, taking-away guilt and-transgression and-sin—but-surely he-does-not leave-unpunished [the guilty], visiting guilt-of fathers, upon~children and-upon~children-of children, upon~third-generations and-upon~fourth-generations.”
Strawn regards the speech of YHWH here as poetry, because of its various “poetic features,” including parataxis, repetition, assonance/ consonance, anaphora, rhythm, and parallelism (2018: 238). He then proceeds to work out the lineation of the poem.26 This is indeed an artful stretch of text, but it is not verse-poetry. The rhythms emerge from the distinct phrasings (the major Masoretic phrase boundaries are reflected by the punctuation in translation).
24. Detailed discussions of whether specific passages are prose or poetry include Andersen 1995 on segments of Genesis; Linafelt and Dobbs-Allsopp 2010 on Qoh 3:1; and Strawn 2018 on Exod 34:6b–7. 25. Garrett (2014: 639–42) and Strawn (2018) regard this passage as poetry. For Garrett’s rationale, based on both disjunctive accents and O’Connor’s constraints, see 2014: 23–24. 26. It is unclear what definition or framework Strawn is following for biblical poetry. He considers this text “nearer the poetic side of the poetry-prose continuum” (2018: 238), yet he also states that “all poetry, including Hebrew poetry, depends on the line” (240). [ 280 ] Remaining Issues
The first two phrases have phrase-internal sound similarities ((yhwh yhwh)| (ʾēl raḥûm wǝḥannûn)|) that strengthen the shapes of the phrases, but the subsequent repetitions (of various kinds) do not serve any poetic structural function in the unfolding whole of the passage. That is, they do not contribute to any patterned part-whole line relationships. These repetitions include the words ḥesed (“loyal-love”) and ʿāwōn (“guilt”), but the second occurrence of each word does not emerge in any patterned way in relation to the first, though the concepts are key to understanding the message of the passage. Strawn describes as “most striking” the threefold repetition of the qal active participle, with assonance of the first two participles (nōṣēr, “keeping”; nōśēʾ, “taking away”; pōqēd, “visiting”) (239). Yet these three participles are interrupted by the clause wǝnaqqê lōʾ yǝnaqqê (“but-surely he-does-not leave- unpunished [ ]”). To make poetic sense of the elliptical construction and interruptive syntax, Strawn views the clause as “janus-faced,” an element that does “double-duty, working both backwards and forwards” (245). A simpler explanation is that this is a (contextually) elliptical construction (that could be found in the syntax of either prose or poetry).27 Strawn finds additional parallelism in the final two sets of coordinated prepositional phrases: ʿal-bānîm wǝʿal-bǝnê bānîm ʿal-šillēšîm wǝʿal-ribbēʿîm upon~children and-upon~children-of children, upon~third-generations and-upon~fourth-generations The problem with this lineation is that although there is repetition in the type of syntactic construction, these “lines” are not organized as a whole in context. The meaning relies on patterned continuation (not symmetry) within the continuous syntax of a prose sentence: first and second, third and fourth (generations). This is an artfully expressed repeating pattern, but repetition is not the same thing as line structure. The essential point here is that we cannot first determine that a passage is poetry based on features and then decide how to lineate (and interpret) it. Rather, we must listen to how the text unfolds aurally, according to the constraints of both language and cognition. If it unfolds in integrated part-whole line and line-grouping relationships, not simply rhythmic phrases with repetitions, it is verse-poetry. If it does not, it may still be artful and beautifully phrased prose.
27. The use of n-q-h in the piel elsewhere refers to leaving persons unpunished, not actions unpunished (Exod 20:7, Deut 5:11, and other passages), contra Strawn’s translation (2018: 246). The elliptical construction here is contextually elliptical, not grammatically elliptical based on the preceding or following grammatical structures.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 281 ]
For contrast, we can listen to how the Priestly Blessing of Numbers 6:24– 26 unfolds, another short passage found within prose.28 While some scholars speak of “parallelism” in this highly structured threefold blessing, many seem hesitant to call it poetry, presumably because of the lengthy third component (v. 26), which is 7 words, or 16 syllables, and because of the lack of balance in the lines.29 The blessing is characterized by what Milgrom calls “a rising crescendo of 3, 5, and 7 words” in each successive part of the blessing, or a pattern of 12, 14, and 16 syllables (1990: 51).30 TEXT 8.2 kōh tǝbārăkû ʾet-bǝnê yiśrāʾēl ʾāmôr lāhem 23b Thus you-shall-bless ‹o.m.›~the-children- of Israel, say to-them:
ת־ּב ֵנ֣י יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֑אל ָא ֖מֹור ְ ּ֥כֹה ְת ָב ֲר ֖כּו ֶא ָל ֶ ֽהם׃ ס
yǝbārekkā yhwh wǝyišmǝrekā “May-bless-you YHWH, and-keep-you.
24
הו֖ה וְ יִ ְׁש ְמ ֶ ֽרָך׃ ס ָ ְָיְב ֶר ְכָך֥ י
yāʾēr yhwh pānāyw ʾēlêkā wîḥunnekkā May-cause-to-shine YHWH his-face toward-you, and-be-gracious-to-you.
25
יח ֶּנ�ּֽךָ ׃ ס ֻ הו֧ה׀ ָּפ ָנ֛יו ֵא ֶל֖יָך ִ ֽו ָ ְיָ ֵ֙אר י
yiśśāʾ yhwh pānāyw ʾēlêkā wǝyāśēm 26 lǝkā šālôm May-lift-up YHWH his-face toward-you, and-grant to-you peace.”
֖הו֤ה׀ ָּפנָ ֙יו ֵא ֔ ֶליָך וְ יָ ֵ ׂ֥שם ְלָך ָ ְיִ ָ ּׂ֙שא י ָׁש ֽלֹום׃ ס
This threefold blessing, in spite of its lengthy third part, emerges as a highly integrated three-part whole, analogous to all the lines and line-groupings of biblical poetry we have analyzed. Each of the three parts begins with a jussive verb followed by the explicit subject YHWH. Each of the three parts is also made up of two distinct clausal shapes (marked by commas in translation). The second part (v. 25) is both unlike and like the first part of the blessing (v. 24). Verse 25 is unlike v. 24 in the syntactic structure of its first clause and in its internal rhythm. Yet v. 25, like v. 24, has a two-clause structure, and both parts end with a single suffixed verb: the two parts are not a closed pair, but they are highly integrated. As v. 26 unfolds, it is highly integrated with the preceding part (v. 25) but at the beginning this time, not at the end. The first clauses
28. Compare also the words of Lamech in Gen 4:23–24, three balanced symmetrical line-pairs, the whole of which is closed through change (chiastic syntax) in the third line-pair, corresponding with semantic escalation (“seventy-seven fold!”). 29. Alter writes of the blessing: “Remarkable for its rhetorical stateliness and its emphatic use of repetition and overlapping terms, it is not, in strictly formal terms, a poem, but it does exhibit a remarkable degree of formal organization” (2019a: 498). 30. Milgrom also notes that the number of consonants increases from 15 to 20 to 25. [ 282 ] Remaining Issues
of the two verses share not just the same syntax but the same second, third, and fourth words. Yet these two parts of the blessing (25, 26) differ at their ends in syntax, and their internal rhythms are quite distinct. In addition to the initial similarity of each of the three parts of the blessing, the integrating pattern that emerges in the organized whole is AB/CB/CD. There is no reason not to call this blessing a poem composed in verse or lines. Furthermore, it is the emergent line structure that creates the unique potential for effects in this threefold blessing. The whole is highly integrated, and the patterning is closed (we do not expect another A, B, C, or D), because it has partial symmetry in the patterning of the whole. Yet the patterning is also marked by movement. Corresponding with the “rising crescendo” of line lengths, this figure is ever changing and expanding. As it comes to an end, with the word šālôm (“peace,” reflecting a sense of “completeness”), the threefold blessing is simultaneously complete and overflowing.31 We can experience this blessing in the shapes of its poetic structure.
8.5. “PARALLELISM” IN PROSE NARRATIVE
The distinction between biblical prose and verse-poetry is structural, not stylistic.32 But biblical verse genres and prose genres arose within the same cultural milieu. We should not be surprised if “stylistic” similarities exist between verse and prose verbal art in the Bible. These similarities, especially at the phrasal or clausal level, have often been regarded as “parallelism,” an aspect of biblical style (thus Kugel 1981). But just as “parallelism” is inadequate to account for the many kinds of patterned similarities in biblical poetry, “parallelism” is inadequate to account for the many kinds of patterning and repetition in biblical prose. A poetics of biblical prose literary art must more specifically describe patterns of similarity and repetition, as well as their contextual functions (Sternberg 1985: 39). This section highlights some examples of so-called “parallelism” in biblical narrative, and how they are similar to or different from structures they resemble in biblical poetry. 31. Cf. the blessing on Joseph in Gen 49:22–26, which also “overflows.” 32. Contra Kugel, who views parallelism (which he equates with the idea of biblical poetry) quite generally as a “seconding sequence” (1981: 59). Kugel formats the prose passage of Exod 2:1–7 in a seconding style (60), claiming that there are no “objective criteria to distinguish the structural organization of this passage from that of certain narrative parts of the Psalter” (61). His binary divisions of Exod 2:1–7, however, arbitrarily disregard the Masoretic prosodic phonological shapes and other language shapes of the text. There is no part-whole structuring of lines and line-groupings in Exod 2:1–7 because it is structured as prose. Furthermore, the contextual setting of Ps 106:29–34 (what Kugel calls “the only difference” between it and Exod 2:1–7 [61]) is not incidental; context is essential to the perceptibility of line structure in biblical poetry.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 283 ]
As in poetry, a symmetrical structure in prose can artfully express merism. The following example is found in the account of the flood, from Genesis 7:11b.33 The “style” is familiar from poetry, but this passage is not structured in the line/line-grouping organization of verse.34 TEXT 8.3 ל־מ ְעיְ נ ֹ֙ת ְּת ֣הֹום ַר ָּ֔בה וַ ֲא ֻר ּ֥בֹת ַה ָּׁש ַ ֖מיִם נִ ְפ ָ ּֽתחּו׃ ַ עּו ָ ּֽכ ֙ ַּבּי֣ ֹום ַה ֶּ֗זה נִ ְב ְק bayyôm hazzê nibqǝʿû kol-maʿyǝnōt tǝhôm rabbâ waʾărubbōt haššāmayim niptāḥû On-the-day this were-split-open all~springs-of deep great,35 and-the- windows-of the-heavens were-opened. After the introductory prepositional phrase (bayyôm hazzê, “on this day”), the constituents are arranged chiastically (V O, O V). (Unlike in poetry, the first part of the sentence, the prepositional phrase, is “dangling”; it refers to the preceding clause and is unintegrated in the symmetry.) In a reversal of God’s separation of the waters in creation (Gen 1:6–8), the waters of the great deep and the waters above the heavens (the totality of the waters) burst forth to flood the earth. Chiastic order is inherently closed, which is particularly useful in narrative, since narrative is not constructed of line-groupings 33. Cf. the similar function of the chiastic merism in Gen 31:40 in Jacob’s speech to Laban. Since direct discourse usually exhibits balance between juxtaposed segments, as well as frequent distributed word pairs and repetition of (deep or surface) syntactic structure, Greenstein views the “fundamental association between direct discourse and parallelistic verse” as “one of the most prevalent conventions in biblical literature” (2014: 81). For various examples of these expressions of “parallelism” in direct discourse, see 2014: 83– 84. In contrast to Greenstein’s view of parallelism as “the most salient indicator of poetry in the Bible” (80), I view the essential structural principle of biblical poetry as the part- whole relationship of line to line-grouping. The part-whole structure of biblical verse is distinct from the various aspects of parallelism Greenstein is highlighting in these examples (on which see ch. 1, n39), with the exception of Josh 10:12, which may be a quotation from verse-poetry. The highly stylized speech in narrative can also be compared with the elevated prose speech in the prophets (see section 8.6). On bilaterism of prosodic phonology as characteristic of the communicative process, see Pitcher 2020: 121. 34. This text is regarded by some scholars as evidence for the existence of an earlier Hebrew epic poem about the flood, a view that is not without controversy (see Greenstein 2018: 15–16). Greenstein argues, “The form and language of this couplet leave no doubt that it was incorporated into the prose narrative from elsewhere— biblical prose will sometimes wax poetic in dialogue, but almost never in the discourse of the narrator. Whenever one encounters such a burst of verse, one must suspect a quotation from a source” (20). My purpose here is not to provide evidence for or against the hypothetical ancient Israelite epic: even if we view an epic as the source of this passage, we are still left with the question of why this symmetrical segment of text is integrated continuously into this prose text. What has been generically called “parallelism” here is not verse-poetry in this context but a symmetrical structure integrated into the prose narrative. It functions within the poetics of prose narrative to express merism—a function that is not limited to the versification structure of biblical poetry. 35. I.e., “On this day were split open all the springs of the great deep . . .” [ 284 ] Remaining Issues
(which unfold as structured wholes within the versification system and thus are a good cognitive fit for closed same-order symmetry as well; see section 5.1). The precise ordering of the words matters here in this prose chiastic structure: it underlines the completeness of this catastrophic unleashing of the totality of the waters. Compare the sound of the construction with ABAB constituent order; the inherent “wholeness” of the structure—the form that enhances the merism—disappears. Another example of so- called “parallelism” in narrative comes from Genesis 21:1. TEXT 8.4 הו֛ה ְל ָׂש ָ ֖רה ַּכ ֲא ֶ ׁ֥שר ִּד ֵ ּֽבר׃ ָ ְׁשר ָא ָ ֑מר וַ ַּי ַ֧עׂש י ֣ ֶ ת־ׂש ָ ֖רה ַּכ ֲא ָ יהו֛ה ּפ ַ ֥�ָקד ֶא ָ ַ ֽו wayhwh pāqad ʾet-śārâ kaʾăšer ʾāmār wayyaʿaś yhwh lǝśārâ kaʾăšer dibber And-YHWH visited ‹o.m.›~Sarah as he-had-said, and-did YHWH for-Sarah as he-had-spoken. Kugel cites this verse as evidence of “parallelism” in prose and views it as the same kind of “seconding” that is found in poetry (1981: 59). This is only superficially true, however. If this passage occurred in poetry, we would hear the whole organized into two balanced parts, but we ought to ask what the significance might be of the partial symmetry (the differences in surface constructions and word order: S-V-O vs. V-S -PP) in the first part of each line.36 In narrative prose, however, the word order is natural and expected.37 This is not a symmetrically structured whole in its narrative context, but rather, it is narrative repetition. YHWH visited Sarah as he said, and YHWH did for Sarah as he spoke (the two-word construction that is repeated in the Hebrew is in italics). Sternberg explains how repetition in narrative may have the contextual “effect of throwing light on the accomplished action and the actor” (1985: 388). He cites Gen 21:1 as an example of the structure of repetition as “commentary by which the narrator sometimes drums up enthusiasm for a supernatural feat” (389). In this case of so-called “narrative parallelism,” it is essential for the listener/reader not to hear it as poetic symmetry (with a contextual function appropriate to a symmetrical line-pair of poetry) but instead, to hear it as repetition functioning within the poetics of biblical narrative. The word “parallelism” is sometimes used in an extended sense to describe larger sections of correspondence in texts. In biblical poetry, as we have seen, the part-whole structuring of lines and line-groupings into larger units can create unfolding perceptible symmetrical structures (such as the chiasm of 36. For examples of the significance of non-symmetrical or partially symmetrical line-pairs in context, see the discussions of partial symmetry in section 5.4, the discussion in ch. 5, n137, and the discussion of Isa 11:1–5, text 7.9. 37. A wayyiqtol verb form (wayyaʿaś) must occur first in its clause.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 285 ]
David’s lament, section 5.8). While prose narrative is not structured in lines and line-groupings, it can use other strategies to create distinct units and larger structures that emerge from their patterning. The symmetrical structure of the creation account in Genesis 1:1–2:3 has been widely discussed, and I will focus here on how it perceptibly unfolds, temporally and aurally.38 There are many elements of repetition in the passage that serve various purposes, and not all of them contribute to the emerging literary structure of the whole.39 Genesis 1:1–2 is an introductory unit that provides the setting for the creation of the heavens and the earth. The first creative act comes in v. 3, as God speaks light into existence (“and God said, ‘Let there be light’ ”). This first literary unit of creation comes to semantic closure at the end of v. 5: “And there was evening and there was morning, one day.” The next unit begins with God again speaking something into existence (“And God said”; v. 6) and also closes with “and there was evening and there was morning, a second day,” v. 8). The unfolding text has established how literary structure is emerging: based upon unit-initial and unit-final repetition in the text. In the third unit, however, God speaks two separate aspects of creation into existence (the land, as distinct from the seas, v. 9, and the vegetation upon the land, v. 11), before the closural statement, “and there was evening and there was morning, a third day” (v. 13). That is, the text has changed its patterning, as it relates to the emerging literary structure. This is a cue for the listener/reader to organize the patterning at a higher level. That is, because the framework for textual units has emerged distinctly (unit-initial and unit-final repetition), the alteration of one aspect of this framework (the repetition of the unit-initial element within the unit) can be heard as a variation. This provides the potential for higher- level patterning of the units, which we can schematize as AAB . . . , where “B” represents the third-day literary unit. At this point, the text places a specific demand on the listener/reader, just as we have seen in biblical poetry: a pattern of textual units is emerging, and it is the listener/reader’s job to actively organize the remainder of the passage to mentally resolve the structure. The fourth unit begins, “And God said, ‘Let there be lights . . .’ ” (v. 14). As in English, the Hebrew for “lights” (mǝʾōrōt) is similar to the word for light (ʾôr) in v. 3, the first act of creation: “Let there be light.” This is a strong potential link in the literary structure, and the remainder of v. 14 confirms that it is
38. My analysis and concerns with patterning in this passage resemble Parunak 1982: 8– 11, but my focus is on the perceptibility of the unfolding patterning. Furthermore, I differ in my analysis of the significance of how the symmetry is completed. 39. E.g., the pronouncement “and God saw that it was good” is absent from the second day. The narrator withholds this pronouncement, it seems, not because the heavens are not good, but because the work of separating and gathering waters is not finished until the third day. The pronouncement of goodness is not a structural marker of the text, but rather God’s view that the resultant state is complete and pleasing to him. [ 286 ] Remaining Issues
indeed structural. In the creation of light, God distinguished between day and night on day one (vv. 4–5); in the creation of the lights in the firmament or dome of the heavens, God again distinguished between day and night on the fourth day (v. 14). Thus, the higher-level patterning of the passage can now be organized as emerging in this way: AABAʹ. . . . A symmetrical whole is emerging, which can be resolved, as the fifth and sixth days unfold, according to the schematized pattern AABAʹAʹBʹ. On the fifth day, God creates the creatures of the sea and the flying creatures of the air/firmament (corresponding with the creation of the firmament that separates the upper and lower waters on the second day). On the sixth day (Bʹ), as on the third day (B), God speaks two creative acts: first, he creates the creatures of the land (corresponding to the gathering of the waters on the third day to create dry land), and second, he creates humankind in his image to have dominion over all the creatures that God has made (vv. 24, 26). What is unexpected, however, is that even though humankind comes through a separate creative act of speech, humankind does not complete the emerging symmetry of God’s speech-acts. Humankind does not correspond with the vegetation, the second aspect of creation on the third day. The creation of the vegetation instead finds its correspondence in God’s spoken word (also a speech-act) later in the sixth-day unit (“And God said . . .”, v. 29), his giving of the vegetation for food for the land creatures, which completes the symmetrical organization of days one through six of creation.40 Why does the creation of humankind not fit into the symmetrical organization of the passage as a whole? What is the significance for textual interpretation that humankind does not provide the structural click of completion to the whole creation symmetry? My proposal in answer to these questions is that the unfolding structure of the text teaches humankind’s special status. Clearly, in the context of the passage, humankind is not a divine afterthought, nor the narrator’s clumsy interpolation into the symmetry. Initially the listener/reader may think humankind fits the emerging structural pattern (“and God said . . .”), but this turns out not to be the case. Quite prominently, humankind does not provide the click of completion to the symmetrically organized creation. Humankind (ʾādām) is a sixth-day earth creature, and as such, humankind fits into this six- day sequence. Yet in contrast to the earth creatures (who are described here as being “brought forth” from the earth, v. 24), humankind is created in God’s image: created by God for dominion, like God, over the other creatures in the
40. The other description of God speaking on the sixth day occurs in v. 28, as part of God’s act of blessing humankind and the other earth-creatures (“And God blessed them and God said to them”). This corresponds with the blessing of the other creatures on the fifth day (“And God blessed them, saying,” v. 22), a repetition that is significant for interpretation, even though it is not part of the structural symmetry of the whole passage.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 287 ]
good world God has made (vv. 27–28). Humankind is not made to complete creation, but to have dominion over it, even though humankind is creaturely. As in poetry, we can experience this truth claim in the unfolding shapes of the narrative verbal art. Thus, humankind stands outside of this symmetry, like God. The other key element that stands outside of this symmetry is the seventh day, which God sanctifies, or sets apart (2:3). Just as 1:1–2 introduced the creation of the heavens and the earth, 2:1–3 concludes the creation of the heavens and the earth (“And the heavens and the earth, and all their host, were completed”); God completed and ceased his work on the seventh day. Both humankind and the seventh day belong in this sequence, but both humankind and the seventh day are set apart in distinctive ways from the symmetrical organization of the whole of creation. Genesis 1:1–2:3 is not composed in lines, but as in verse-poetry, the emerging structure of the organized whole guides us in making sense of the many possible repetitions and correspondences. Since biblical narrative and biblical poetry (in its various genres) share a common literary tradition, we should not be surprised if the poetics of biblical narrative and the poetics of biblical poetry are mutually informing. But just as the concept of “parallelism” is not adequate for poetry, it is likewise not adequate for narrative. Repetition must be precisely described in narrative too, and the functions of various kinds of repetition or correspondence must be studied in their unfolding literary contexts.
8.6. ELEVATED STYLE AND MIXING OF THE MODES IN THE PROPHETS
Verse and prose are distinct modes of structure in the biblical texts, but as in other literary traditions, they influence each other in complex and interesting ways (Brogan 1993g: 1348). One such way is the elevated style of prose discourse found in some of the prophetic books. In this kind of elevated discourse, the patterning of the language produces emotional and rhetorical effects, but the patterning is not organized into poetic structure of lines and integrated line-groupings.41 An example of elevated biblical prose style is the oracle of Ezekiel 7.42 The elevated style of this excerpt (vv. 5–7) includes distinct short phrases with much repetition and patterning of sounds and words, but the phrases do not
41. Elevated rhetorical style is not unique to the biblical prophets: we can experience something similar in certain speeches of orators and sermons of African American preachers. These speeches are structured in prose, but the patterning may resemble the sound of poetry. 42. Contra Alter 2019b, who calls this “the first prophecy in Ezekiel unambiguously cast as poetry” (1067). [ 288 ] Remaining Issues
emerge as lines within line-groupings, that is, as parts of integrated, patterned wholes.43 TEXT 8.5 �ֵקיץ ֵא ָל֑יִ ְך ִה ֵּנ֖ה ָּב ָ ֽאה׃ ָ ּ֧ב ָאה ֣ ִ הו֑ה ָר ָ ֛עה ַא ַ ֥חת ָר ָ ֖עה ִה ֵּנ֥ה ָב ָ ֽאה׃ ֵ ֣קץ ָּ֔בא ָ ּ֥בא ַה ֵ ּ֖קץ ה ִ ְּ֥כֹה ָא ַ ֖מר ֲאד ָֹנ֣י י א־הד ָה ִ ֽרים׃ ֥ ֵ ֹ הּומה וְ ל ֖ ָ יֹוׁשב ָה ָ ֑א ֶרץ ָ ּ֣בא ָה ֗ ֵעת ָק ֛רֹוב ַהּי֥ ֹום ְמ ֣ ֵ ירה ֵא ֶל֖יָך ֛ ָ ַה ְּצ ִפ kōh ʾāmar ʾădōnāy yhwh rāʿâ ʾaḥat rāʿâ hinnê bāʾâ qēṣ bāʾ bāʾ haqqēṣ hēqîṣ ʾēlāyik hinnê bāʾâ bāʾâ haṣṣǝpîrâ ʾēlêkā yôšēb hāʾāreṣ bāʾ hāʿēt qārôb hayyôm mǝhûmâ wǝlōʾ-hēd hārîm Thus says the-Lord YHWH: Disaster, singular disaster! Lo, it-comes! An-end comes, comes the-end! It-wakes against-you! Lo, it-comes! Comes-(around) the-cycle44 to-you, inhabitant-of the-land! Comes the-time, near (is) the-day, panic, and-not~joyful-shouting (on) mountains! Other prophetic texts in the Bible weave in and out of prose and verse. We have seen that verse can be embedded in narrative (the song of Judges 5) or narrative can frame verse (the book of Job), but the movement between prose and verse may seem more fluid in these prophetic texts, and a single integrated passage may mix prose and verse, or even at times seem to straddle prose and verse. An example of this mixing or straddling of the modes occurs in Ezekiel 27, which is a judgment oracle that is designated as a lament ( qînâ) against Tyre (v. 2). Biblical laments (qînôt) are typically structured in verse, and the opening of the lament in Ezek 27 meets this expectation, with relatively lengthy lines.45 The first two lines (3b, 4) form a line-pair through line-final similarity (kǝlîlat yōpî, “perfect of beauty”/kālǝlû yopyēk, “have perfected your beauty”). Though made up of four distinct segments, the whole of the line-grouping, through this correspondence, emerges with two genuine parts.46
43. The first two pragmatic utterances of the discourse (according to the Masoretic verses; vv. 5, 6) end with hinnê bāʾâ (“lo, it comes!”). This repetition allows the listener to hear successive utterances in the midst of the repetitive discourse. But hearing utterances end is not the same as being able to consistently organize line-groupings as internally patterned wholes that have integrity. 44. The meaning of haṣṣǝpîrâ is uncertain; the translation “cycle” follows NJPS. 45. We have seen similarly lengthy lines (cohering across major phrase boundaries) in the laments of Lam 1–3 (section 7.2), which allows for increased complexity of rhythms within lines and figures. Two other laments in Ezekiel are also structured in relatively lengthy lines (Ezek 19 and 26:17–18); cf. the lament in Mic 1:10–16. 46. We might organize 3b–4 as four short lines according to the equally weighted segments, patterned A/B/C/B. Yet line 3b coheres through the semantic requiredness of the content of Tyre’s speech/thought, and the sound similarity between gǝbûlāyik and bōnayik potentially contributes to the cohesion of line 4 across the phrase boundary (cf. Jonah 2:3 [ET 2:2], text 5.6, ch. 5, n22). Furthermore, lengthy structural units characterize the rest of the lament.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 289 ]
TEXT 8.6 ṣôr ʾatt ʾāmart ʾănî kǝlîlat yōpî O-Tyre, you have-said, “I (am) perfect-of beauty.”
3b
bǝlēb yammîm gǝbûlāyik bōnayik 4 kālǝlû yopyēk In-the-heart-of the-seas (are) your- borders; your-builders have-perfected your-beauty. bǝrôšîm miśśǝnîr bānû lāk ʾēt kol-luḥōtāyim (With) cypresses from-Senir they- built for-you ‹o.m.› all~the-ribs;
֕צֹור ַ ֣א ְּת ָא ַ֔מ ְר ְּת ֲא ִנ֖י ְּכ ִ ֥ל ַילת ֹֽי ִפי׃
בּול֑יִ ְך ּב ַֹ֕ניִ ְך ָּכ ְל ֖לּו יָ ְפֵי�ְֽך׃ ָ ְיַּמים ּג ֖ ִ ְּב ֵל֥ב
5a
ל־לח ָ ֹ֑תיִם ֽ ֻ יר ָ ּ֣בנּו ֔ ָלְך ֵ ֖את ָּכ ֙ ִרֹוׁשים ִמ ְּׂשנ ֤ ִ ְּב
ʾerez millǝbānôn lāqāḥû laʿăśôt tōren 5b ʿālāyik a-cedar from-Lebanon they-took to- make a-mast upon-you.
ּת ֶרן ָע ָ ֽליִ ְך׃ ֹ ֖ נֹון ָל ָ ֔קחּו ַל ֲע ׂ֥שֹות ֙ ֶ ֤א ֶרז ִמ ְּל ָב
The lament continues with lengthy line-pairs, describing the perfection of the metaphorical ship of Tyre. The first section closes through a strategy of return, the repetition of the end of the first line-pair (4), kālǝlû yopyēk (“they perfected your beauty”), at the end of 11b. These lines (11a–b) are particularly long, but they can be organized as a line-pair contextually in relation to each other and in relation to the preceding line-pair (10a–b). TEXT 8.7 bǝnê ʾarwad wǝḥêlēk ʿal- 11a ḥômôtayik sābîb wǝgammādîm bǝmigdǝlôtayik hāyû The-sons-of Arvad and-Helek (were) on~your-walls all-around, and men- of-Gammad in-your-towers were.
ל־חֹומֹותיִ ְ֙ך ָס ִ֔ביב ַ֙ ְּב ֵנ֧י ַא ְרַו֣ד וְ ֵח ֗ ֵילְך ַע לֹותיִ ְך ָהי֑ ּו ֖ ַ וְ גַ֙ ָּמ ִ ֔דים ְּב ִמגְ ְּד
šilṭêhem tillû ʿal-ḥômôtayik sābîb 11b hēmmâ kālǝlû yopyēk Their-quivers they-hung upon~your- walls all-around; they perfected your-beauty.
ל־חֹומֹותיִ ְ֙ך ָס ִ֔ביב ֵ ֖ה ָּמה ַ֙ יהם ִּת ּ֤לּו ַע ֶ֞ ִׁש ְל ֵט ָּכ ְל ֥לּו יָ ְפֵי�ְֽך׃
The long lines of v. 11 transition into a new section of even longer lines about Tyre’s trading partners (12–24), if “lines” is even the appropriate word for these structural units. They sound like lines, because the increase in
[ 290 ] Remaining Issues
length has happened gradually, and initially they continue the two-segment shapes of the lines from the preceding section. We might instead consider these “lines” line-pairs, but this analysis feels strained in various places (such as vv. 14 and 20). These long “lines” can all be structured in relation to each other based on the beginning of each “line,” each of which names Tyre’s trading partner(s). The impressive list goes extravagantly on and on. There are no line-groupings that emerge in these continuously patterned but internally irregular units, yet a noticeable change comes that brings an end to the section (by creating the expectation for something new). The final unit (vv. 23–24) of this section is so excessively long (at 20 words, compared to 12 in the preceding v. 22) that it seems to push past the breaking point of structured organization. The list pattern disappears with v. 25 (though the text returns to Tarshish, who headed the list of traders in v. 12), and the next four lines stand out starkly in their relative brevity and their return to organized structure: TEXT 8.8 ʾŏniyyôt taršîš šārôtayik maʿărābēk The-ships-of Tarshish (were) your- travelers (for) your-merchandise,47
25a
רֹותיִ ְך ַמ ֲע ָר ֵבְ֑ך ֖ ַ ֳאנִ ּי֣ ֹות ַּת ְר ִׁ֔שיׁש ָׁש
wattimmālǝʾî wattikbǝdî mǝʾōd bǝlēb-yammîm and-you-were-filled and-you- were-weighty/honored very in-the-heart-of~the-seas.
25b
֥ב־יַּמים׃ ֽ ִ אד ְּב ֵל ֹ ֖ וַ ִּת ָּמ ְל ִ ֧אי ַ ֽו ִּת ְכ ְּב ִ ֛די ְמ
bǝmayim rabbîm hĕbîʾûk haššāṭîm ʾōtāk 26a In-waters great brought-you those-who- rowed you;
יאּוְך ַה ָּׁש ִ ֖טים א ָ ֹ֑תְך ֔ ְּב ַ ֤מיִם ַר ִּב ֙ים ֱה ִב
rûaḥ haqqādîm šǝbārēk bǝlēb yammîm the-wind-of the-east broke-you in-the- heart-of the-seas.
26b
יַּמים׃ ֽ ִ ֚ר ַּוח ַה ָּק ִ ֔דים ְׁש ָב ֵ ֖רְך ְּב ֵל֥ב
Notice the stability that the line-final repetition in 25b and 26b of bǝlēb yammîm (“in the heart of the seas,” repeated from v. 4) brings to the four-line figure (ironically, in the context of a storm!). The simple, stable telling of Tyre’s ruin is almost startling, in the midst of all the excess that has been described. But the organization and structure disintegrates dramatically as all of Tyre’s excess falls into “the heart of the seas” in v. 27:
47. This line internally coheres across the major phrase boundary through the sound similarity of taršîš and šārôtayik; cf. line 4, n46, this chapter.
Biblic al Poetry and Prose
[ 291 ]
TEXT 8.9 ל־אנְ ֵׁ֙שי ִמ ְל ַח ְמ ֵּ֜תְך ַ �יקי ִב �ד ֵ ְ֣קך ְ ֽוע ְֹר ֵב֣י ֠ ַמ ֲע ָר ֵבְך וְ ָכ ֣ ֵ ִבֹוניִ ְך ַמ ֲע ָר ֵ֕בְך ַמ ָּל ַ ֖חיִ ְך וְ ח ְֹב ָל֑יִ ְך ַמ ֲחז ַ֔ ְהֹונֵ ְ֙ך וְ ִעז יַּמים ְּבי֖ ֹום ַמ ַּפ ְל ֵ ּֽתְך׃ ִ֔ תֹוכְך יִ ְּפ ֙לּו ְּב ֵל֣ב ֵ֔ ׁשר ְּב ֣ ֶ ל־ק ָה ֵל ְ֙ך ֲא ְ ּוב ָכ ְ ר־ּבְך ָ֗ ֲא ֶׁש hônēk wǝʿizbônayik maʿărābēk mallāḥayik wǝḥōbǝlāyik maḥăzîqê bidqēk wǝʿōrǝbê maʿărābēk wǝkol-ʾanšê milḥamtēk ʾăšer-bāk ûbǝkol-qǝhālēk ʾăšer bǝtôkēk yippǝlû bǝlēb yammîm bǝyôm mappaltēk Your-wealth and-your-wares, your-merchandise, your-sailors and-your- pilots, the-repairers-of your-breach and-the-dealers-of your-merchandise and-all~your-men-of war who-(are)~in-you and-among-your-whole~assembly which (is) in-your-midst—they-will-fall into-the-heart-of the-seas on-the- day-of your-downfall. The two-part lines return in v. 28, and they stabilize as line-pairs by vv. 30–31, where a lament within the lament is staged, in the voices of the sailors and captains who have come down from their ships and now stand on the land. Their own lament (vv. 32–36) closes out the oracle. The oracle of Ezek 27 does not simply switch between modes of verse and prose structure; it transitions between the modes, and sometimes even seems to straddle them both at the same time. This artful mixing of structural modes is difficult, perhaps impossible, to represent in visual formatting according to a binary system of segmented lines or continuous text. But the shapes and structures of Ezek 27 can be heard, and they are an intriguing example of how prose and verse meet in literary art in the Bible.
8.7. CONCLUSION
The poetry of the Bible belongs to a vast literary tradition that includes texts composed in both verse and prose. Although these modes are structurally distinct, they emerged and operated within a common milieu. Understanding the versification system of biblical poetry sheds light on the entirety of this literary tradition, not simply on poetic texts. The idea of “parallelism” has stifled not just our understanding and appreciation of biblical poetry but also our understanding and appreciation of biblical prose literature. “Parallelism” refers to far too many different phenomena to adequately describe either style or structure. The textual discussions in this chapter have charted various possible paths of exploration of the complex and multifaceted relationships between prose and poetry in the Bible.
[ 292 ] Remaining Issues
CHAPTER 9
Conclusion: Unparalleled Poetry
This chapter revisits Psalm 23 and the two questions it raised at the beginning of this book: What are the lines of biblical poetry, and why does it matter? In this concluding chapter, I walk through the line structure of Psalm 23 and establish that the psalm is a composition in verse. I then demonstrate how the mental organization of the lines affects how we hear and experience the message of this work of verbal art. I assert that this book has done what it set out to do: it has disentangled biblical poetry from the idea of parallelism, with its underlying metrical assumptions about biblical verse. More importantly, it has proposed an alternative: a coherent and unified free-rhythm versification system of lines fitting to lines that is theoretically plausible and simple, though contextually complex. This proposed versification system accounts for the wide diversity of lines and poems in the Bible and illuminates not just the structures of biblical poetry but also the artistry of potential effects. In closing, I point to some prospects for future research in parallelism and comparative literature.
T
his book began with the words of Psalm 23, a work deeply appreciated for its lyrical phrasings and artful imagery yet lacking in consensus from critics with regard to its poetic structure, whether lineation or overall organization. Standard approaches to poetic lineation of biblical poetry—regular rhythms and parallelism—cannot provide the lineation of Ps 23. Analyses of its overall structure have resulted in copious observations of connections within its six verses, but no common organizational framework has emerged based on them, and scarcely even a common message.1 Some have even wondered on what grounds Ps 23 should be considered a poem at all. 1. For summaries of the many approaches to the structure of Ps 23, see Kraus 1988: 303–5; Craigie 1983: 203–5; and Goldingay 2006: 344–47. Recent articles that
Unparalleled Poetry. Emmylou J. Grosser, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190902360.003.0009
I contended in chapter 1 that the problem of a flawed approach to biblical poetic structure applies not just to Ps 23, but to all the poetry of the Bible. Regular rhythms and parallelism are the wrong starting places for understanding the biblical poetic line. I have argued throughout this book for a different starting place for understanding poetic structure in the free-rhythm biblical versification system: lines that fit to each other in organized part- whole relationships of lines and line-groupings, emerging aurally as they unfold in time. This cognitive approach is oriented toward listener perception, not toward abstract line-forms or rules. The mental processing of biblical lines in relation to each other involves the organization of textual features from potentially all aspects of language, which is possible because of both the artistry of the poems and the listener’s ability to organize part-whole relationships according to organizational principles of Gestalt constraints, within the memory limits of information processing.
9.1. PSALM 23 REVISITED
Psalm 23 is a short yet complex poem. Like the other biblical poems we have analyzed, the lines of Ps 23 emerge in relation to each other, line-grouping by line-grouping.2 The psalm has great variety in line lengths, even within some line-groupings. As the poem unfolds, there is no expectation set for consistent line lengths, or a line-length norm. The part-whole relationships of lines to line-groupings emerge in various ways from various aspects of language. TEXT 9.1 mizmôr lǝdāwid Psalm of-David.
1a
ִמזְ ֥מֹור ְל ָדִו֑ד
yhwh rōʿî YHWH (is) my-shepherd;
1b
הו֥ה ֜ר ֹ ֗ ִעי ָ ְי
lōʾ ʾeḥsār not shall-I-want.
1c
֣ל ֹא ֶא ְח ָ ֽסר׃
binʾôt dešeʾ yarbîṣēnî In-pastures-of vegetation he-makes-me-lie-down;
2a
ִּבנְ ֣אֹות ֶּ֭ד ֶׁשא יַ ְר ִּב ֵיצ֑נִ י
analyze versification and structure include Wiseman (2016), who bases his arguments on a fairly conventional understanding of parallelism and rhythm, and Marlowe (2002–3, 2011), who argues for a chiastic structure of the entire psalm. 2. The exceptional poem in this regard discussed in this book is Lam 3 (section 7.2). Although the lines emerge in relation to each other, no strong, consistent line- groupings emerge. The poet accomplishes this through both the internal complexity of the lines and the acrostic form that marks the beginning of each line. [ 294 ] Remaining Issues
ʿal-mê mǝnūḥôt yǝnahălēnî by~waters-of resting-places he-leads-me.
2b
ל־מי ְמנֻ ֣חֹות יְ נַ ֲה ֵ ֽלנִ י׃ ֖ ֵ ַע
napšî yǝšôbēb My-life he-restores;
3a
ׁשֹובב ֑ ֵ ְנַ ְפ ִ ׁ֥שי י
yanḥēnî bǝmaʿgǝlê-ṣedeq lǝmaʿan šǝmô 3b he-guides-me in-firm-paths- of~righteousness for-the-sake-of his-name.
י־צ ֶדק ְל ַ ֣מ ַען ְׁש ֽמֹו׃ ֜ ֶ֗ ַיֽנְ ֵ ֥חנִ י ְב ַמ ְעּגְ ֵל
gam kî-ʾēlēk bǝgêʾ ṣalmāwet 4a Even though~I-walk through-the-valley-of darkest-gloom,
י־א ֵ ֙לְך ְּב ֵג֪יא ַצ ְל ָ֡מוֶ ת ֵ ַּג֤ם ִ ּֽכ
lōʾ-ʾîrāʾ rāʿ not~will-I-fear evil,
4b
ירא ָ ֗רע ֤ ָ א־א ִ֨ ֹ ל
kî-ʾattâ ʿimmādî for~you (are) with-me.
4c
י־א ָ ּ֥תה ִע ָּמ ִ ֑די ַ ִּכ
šibṭǝkā ûmišʿantekā Your-rod and-your-staff—
4d
ִׁש ְב ְטָך֥ ּו֜ ִמ ְׁש ַענְ ֶּ֗תָך
hēmmâ yǝnaḥămūnî they comfort-me.
4e
ֵ ֣ה ָּמה יְ ַנ ֲֽח ֻ ֽמנִ י׃
taʿărōk lǝpānay šulḥān You-arrange before-me a-table,
5a
ַּת ֲע ֬ר ְֹך ְל ָפנַ֙ י׀ ֻׁש ְל ָ֗חן
neged ṣōrǝrāy in-front-of my-enemies.
5b
ֶ �נ֥גֶ ד צ ְֹר ָ ֑רי
diššantā baššemen rōʾšî You-refresh with-oil my-head;
5c
אׁשי ִ֗ ֹ ִּד ַ ּׁ֖שנְ ָּת ַב ֶ ּׁ֥ש ֶמן ֜ר
kôsî rǝwāyâ my-cup overflows!
5d
ּכֹוסי ְרוָ ָיֽה׃ ִ֥
ʾak ṭôb wāḥesed yirdǝpûnî kol-yǝmê ḥayyāy Surely goodness and-steadfast-love will- pursue-me all~the-days-of my-life,
6a ל־יְמי ַח ָּי֑י ֣ ֵ ַ ֤אְך׀ ֤טֹוב וָ ֶ ֣ח ֶסד ִי ְ֭ר ְּדפּונִ י ָּכ
wǝšabtî bǝbêt-yhwh lǝʾōrek yāmîm and-I-will-return3 [to be/dwell] in-the- house-of~YHWH for-length-of days.
6b
יָמים׃ ֽ ִ א ֶרְך ֹ ֣ הוה ְל ֗ ָ ית־י ְ֜ וְ ַׁש ְב ִ ּ֥תי ְּב ֵב
3. The MT reads wǝšabtî, “I will return,” from the root š-w-b. LXX translates this word as an infinitive from the root y-š-b, “to dwell” (which can be explained as an assimilation to Ps 27:4). The difficulty of the MT reading is the following preposition, b-(“in”), which works semantically with the root y-š-b but not the root š-w-b. Commentators who accept the MT reading consider this a “pregnant construction” (GKC §119ee) or a kind of “ellipsis” (IBHS 11.4.3d), in which part of the grammatical structure must be filled in from context, which is indeed possible here (as the bracketed words in
C o n c l u s i o n : U n pa r a l l e l e d P o e t r y
[ 295 ]
The Masoretic verses generally correspond with the line-groupings of the psalm. Lines 1b–c emerge as a balanced line-pair not through symmetry but because the whole breaks into two short parts (clauses) of equal (two-word) phrasing.4 Lines 2a–b emerge as a strongly symmetrical line-pair (both syntactically and semantically), which is closed. Line 3a, which is relatively short, thus begins a new line-grouping, with a forward expectation for its integration.5 Yet it also strongly coheres as a distinct unit due to the similarity of sounds of the short clause: napšî yǝšôbēb.6 The marked (O V) word order serves to bring these sounds closer together, but it also impacts the grammatical shapes of the emerging line-pair. The expectation for integration prompts a link between the contiguous yǝšôbēb (“he-restores,” 3a) and yanḥēnî (“he- guides-me,” 3b), which are both imperfect verbs with YHWH as the subject. But no chiastic line-pair emerges: line 3b can be structured in relation to the quite distinct short 3a (the listener/reader must tease out how they are semantically related), but there is no syntactic (or semantic) line structural symmetry. Line 3b, unlike 3a, just keeps going (resulting in a quite imbalanced line-pair), with no anticipated click of symmetrical closure.7 Furthermore, because of word order, line 3b, in contrast to 3a, has no grammatical closure: it feels open.8 Line 4a begins a new line-grouping, and it brings a change. Thus far, each line has emerged as an independent clause, and each line-grouping has been organized (in different ways) with paratactic syntactic relationships. Line 4a, however, is a dependent clause, introduced by gam kî (“even though”). The line-grouping emerges as a whole of three parts, three syntactically integrated clauses (4a, 4b, 4c). Line 4b is strengthened as a distinct unit through the similarity of sounds (lōʾ-ʾîrāʾ rāʿ)9 and perhaps line 4c as well, though to a lesser degree.10 Lines 4d and 4e emerge as two equally segmented parts (prosodic translation show). From a literary perspective, the notion of “return” fits quite well in the poem and brings closure to the wanderings; see the discussion. See also Bellinger and Arterbury 2005 on “returning” in relation to the metaphor of hospitality. Other scholars emend the MT to the conjoined perfect form of the root y-š-b, meaning “and-I-will-dwell.” 4. The segmentation into equal parts of a whole tends to strengthen the parts, unless the organization of the whole somehow precludes it (section 7.3). 5. Line 3a is not sufficiently integrated with 2a–b to prompt a four-line whole. 6. The repeated or feature-sharing sounds are š and p/b. 7. Line 3b does not break into parts, in spite of its length, owing to the organization of the whole that I have described. 8. The semantic relationship of the line-pair 3a–b is also relatively open ended: the listener/reader must work to tease out the significance of the pairing of these two lines. With regard to the closed and open grammatical shapes of the lines, compare the line-internal shapes of Lam 3:56 (text 7.28). 9. The repeated or feature-sharing sounds are ʾ (and potentially ʿ) and rā. 10. The potentially similar sounds are ʾ/ʿ and the word-internal consonant doubling (tt/mm). [ 296 ] Remaining Issues
phrases) of a syntactic whole. Line 4d likewise is strengthened as a distinct unit through similarity of sounds (šibṭǝkā ûmišʿantekā).11 Lines 5a and 5b too emerge as a line-pair, as two parts (prosodic phrases) of a syntactic whole, a clause. The distinctness of 5a as a unit is brought about by closure through word order: the demand of the line-initial verb (taʿărōk, “you-arrange”) for an object (šulḥān, “table”), which is met after the first prepositional phrase. (Compare the different word order, which results in a more unified whole, *taʿărōk šulḥān lǝpānay neged ṣōrǝrāy, typical of English translations: “You arrange a table before me in front of my enemies.”) The shape of line 5c, like 5a, is strengthened through word order (V PP O). Additionally, the unit is strengthened through sound similarity (diššantā *baššamn rōʾšî).12 Lines 5c–d emerge as a line-pair of two clauses that continue the 3 word +2 word shape of the previous line-pair, though not the syntactic pattern (line 5d is a new clause).13 Lines 6a and 6b are long lines, grammatically unbounded or open, without strong internal phrasing shapes (especially 6a). They emerge as a line-pair not through symmetry but through line-final semantic similarity (“all the days of my life”/“length of days”). I have demonstrated that Ps 23 is not prose but verse. What has emerged is a clear poetic structure of part-to-whole, distinct line-groupings. The next question is, what have we gained by hearing the lines of this poem emerge, by not simply hearing it as prose? Specifically, how do the sounds of the shapes of these lines affect how we hear and experience the message of this piece of verbal art?14 Even though this psalm has twofold imagery—YHWH as Shepherd and YHWH as Host—it does not have a twofold structure. One metaphor flows right into the next. There is no poetic closure at the end of v. 4 that would lead us to hear a new section at v. 5.15 Furthermore, there are other changing shapes
11. The repeated or feature-sharing sounds are š, ṭ/t, and kā. 12. The repeated or feature-sharing sounds are š and an/amn; *baššamn is the pre- anaptyxis form. 13. Since 5c is similar to 5a in syntax and 5c–d is similar to 5a–b in phrasing shapes, we might ask whether 5a–d should be viewed as two corresponding lines rather than four lines. I do not think this is the case based on the organization of the whole: Lines 5a–b and lines 5c–d are not integrated in analogous ways. They are two two-part wholes, not one four-part whole. Furthermore, the change from imperfect verb (taʿărōk) in line 5a to perfect verb (diššantā) in line 5c results in less integration in Hebrew than the English translation reflects. 14. I am not asking how we unlock the meaning of this poem by uncovering its structure, an approach all too common in biblical studies. Structure emerges along with meaning and poetic effects, or, alternatively, meaning and effects emerge along with poetic structure. 15. Scholars have tried to solve this “problem,” either by reading the entire poem about one image, or three images, or proposing elaborate hypothetical settings for the poem (see Kraus 1988: 304–5; and Craigie 1983: 204–5). Shifts in metaphors occur elsewhere as an integrating device in biblical poetry. See, e.g., the integrated line-triple of Gen 49:27, in which the first two lines (27a–b) are integrated through wolf imagery,
C o n c l u s i o n : U n pa r a l l e l e d P o e t r y
[ 297 ]
in this poem that do not converge with each other or with the shepherding and hosting shapes. As discussed with regard to lineation, the relationship between syntax and the line changes from paratactic clauses in vv. 1–3 to hypotactic clauses in 4a–c, to clauses distributed over line-pairs in 4d–5b, and back to paratactic clauses in 5c–6b. Another change is the shift from third person for YHWH to second person in line 4c, which shifts back to third person in line 6b. This psalm brings together two metaphors of God’s provision— shepherding and hosting—in a highly integrated poem. It fuses the experiences of wandering and home, wilderness and house, under the care of a single Shepherd-Host. The line-groupings emerge clearly, though there is much integration across line-groupings, and the psalm as a whole resists segmentation.16 The psalm as a whole is not characterized by stable shapes (e.g., Ps 100, text 7.1), but it is also not characterized by unstable shapes (e.g., the Song of Songs). The psalm begins simply (“YHWH is my shepherd; I lack nothing”), and it establishes this simple statement with the clear symmetrically arranged images of lines 2a and 2b. The line-pair 3a–b introduces more complexity in line shapes and meaning. (What does it mean that the Shepherd restores life? How is YHWH’s guidance related to his name?) From line 3a on, the psalm is characterized by change and unpredictability: changes in how lines emerge and changes in rhythm (within each line-grouping). The one repeated rhythm that emerges just before the end, in lines 5a–d (a 3 word +2 word movement in both line-pairs),17 actually serves to highlight a change: 5d sounds (rhythmically) like 5b, but it is quite unlike it in meaning (as well as syntax). There is no other correspondence between “in front of my enemies” and “my cup overflows.” The latter is unexpectedly different in a context of similarity (of lines 5a and 5c, and continuation of rhythmic patterning); thus the exclamation mark in 5d in my translation. Other surprises come along the way, such as the threatening dark valley in line 4a. The psalmist is walking through it; did the Shepherd really lead him here, given what we have learned in vv. 2–3? As we are wondering, we find out that YHWH is still present (line 4c), as the poem dramatically shifts to second person: “You are with me.” Also unexpected (semantically) is the set table in line 5a (where the metaphor of shepherding shifts to and the second two lines (27b–c) are integrated through symmetrical syntax. The imagery shifts between 27b and 27c: a wolf devours prey but does not divide plunder. 16. Even though the poem has transitions at 4a and 5a that result in what may seem to be a symmetrical shape of 6 lines +5 lines +6 lines, these transitions are not marked by closure in 3b and 4e. I.e., the poem is not segmented but continuous. There is no symmetry set up by how the overall organization of the poem unfolds, as in, e.g., David’s lament, which sets up the expectation for how it will be completed (text 5.42). The various progressions in Ps 23 (such as from security, vv. 1–3, to danger, vv. 4–5, to rest, v. 6) are thematic developments, not structural chiasm (contra Marlowe 2003, 2011). 17. As mentioned in the lineation discussion, the shared syntactic shapes (V PP O) in 5a and 5c contribute to this rhythm. [ 298 ] Remaining Issues
hosting), and perhaps no less unexpected is the appearance of the enemies in line 5b, with God providing for the psalmist right in the midst of them! Then, in line 6a, is the delightfully surprising image of the psalmist being “pursued” his whole life, not by enemies, by (God’s) goodness and faithful love. A final closural change comes in the last line of the poem: a closing image of rest, an end to the journeying, an image of the psalmist’s “return” to dwell in YHWH’s house for the rest of his days. The poetic shapes of Ps 23 as a whole are characterized by change and unpredictability, though the poem as a whole is highly integrated. Yet the unifying and clear unchanging message throughout the psalm is the constancy of YHWH, specifically, his loving provision and care for the psalmist along the way. YHWH is host to the psalmist, even in the wilderness, even in the midst of enemies. This constancy must be appreciated, even experienced, amid the variable shapes and surprises of the poem, in the context of the psalmist’s wanderings—which are, according to the poem, the Shepherd’s paths. I have argued that it is the mental organization of a biblical poem’s lines and line-groupings that allows us to experience the shapes and message of a poem. This felt aspect of a poem cannot be paraphrased into semantic content. The experience of poetry is inescapably a subjective internal experience, and Ps 23 delves into this individual dimension. But biblical poetry was also composed to be a shared communal experience: laments, for example, are not intended as isolated or isolating human events. Such a communal experience is possible because of literary conventions, shared expectations of verbal art. The versification system of biblical poetry—lines “fitting to each other”—is a convention, a shared expectation of how words are put together to create the structures of biblical poetic verbal art. The mental emergence of poetic lines in biblical poetry is based upon this convention, and the potential for shared communal experience of biblical poetry is dependent upon this shared expectation as well.
9.2. IMPLICATIONS FOR BIBLICAL AND COMPARATIVE STUDIES
This book has disentangled biblical poetry from the idea of parallelism as well as underlying metrical assumptions about biblical verse. Many have pointed out the problems of parallelism and meter, but this book has proposed an alternative: a coherent and unified free-rhythm versification system of lines fitting to lines that is theoretically plausible and simple (though contextually complex) that accounts for the wide diversity of biblical lines and poems.18 18. Throughout this book I have striven to account for the Hebrew textual tradition(s) that we have received: emending the Hebrew text based only on textual variants, not conjecturally for the sake of “better” poetry.
C o n c l u s i o n : U n pa r a l l e l e d P o e t r y
[ 299 ]
The nebulous expectation for “parallelism” in biblical poetry, along with its corollary of regular “rhythm,” must be abandoned, but the idea of biblical poetry is reclaimed. The inadequate expectations can be replaced with different expectations for biblical poetry: lines that fit to each other in a great variety of ways (of different Gestalt principles and different aspects of language) that are heard in the emergence of contextual wholes of line-groupings and poems. This book has illuminated not just the structures of biblical poetry but also the artistry of potential effects. As modern readers of biblical poetry, we must remember that biblical poetry does not consist of lines on a page. We cannot view lineation of a biblical poem as a preliminary step so that we or others can subsequently interpret and analyze it. Rather, we must actively mentally organize the emerging lines and line-groupings of the poem while we experience and interpret them.19 Analysis must be subject to hearing how poems unfold aurally. In this book I have focused primarily on how biblical poetry is unlike other poetries, particularly English metrical verse and free verse, because assumptions from these systems have driven modern misunderstandings of biblical poetry.20 The biblical poetic line does not emerge in relation to patterned metrical templates (meter); rather, the rhythms of biblical poetry depend upon the emergence of the line and line-grouping. Nor do line breaks determine line shapes in biblical poetry (as in much free verse poetry); the contextual shapes of the language of biblical poetry—emerging in the part-whole relationships of lines and line-groupings—determine the lines. A step beyond this book is to ask how biblical poetry is like other poetries. The closest extant textual corpus (geographically and linguistically) to biblical poetry in the ancient Near East is Ugaritic poetry. Much of the focus of comparison between Ugaritic and Biblical Hebrew poems has been on the common forms that they share, but as this book has shown, neither line-forms nor varieties of parallelism provides an adequate approach to the structures and effects of biblical poetry, and they are not likely adequate approaches to Ugaritic poetry either. Extending the cognitive questions of this book to the structure and effects of Ugaritic poetry may provide new insights into Ugaritic poetry and inform comparative study between the two textual corpora. Organized 19. This book raises unresolved questions about how to best format biblical poetry, in Hebrew and in translation. Graphic lineation of texts is not neutral: formatting the text in lines may communicate that a fixed form determines the lines, hindering the reader’s role in mentally organizing the emerging shapes of poetic structure. 20. The translated poetry of the Bible, especially the King James Version, has influenced the free verse poetry of such poets as Walt Whitman, who combines patterns of parallelism and repetition with “free” rhythmic patterns (albeit patterns that are still related to the rhythms of metrical feet); see Smith 1968: 88–92. Discussion of the free rhythms of biblical poetry has in turn been shaped by the English free-verse tradition; see, e.g., Dobbs-Allsopp 2015: 95–99, a section on the free rhythms of biblical poetry entitled “Through Whitman’s Eyes.” [ 300 ] Remaining Issues
repetition of various kinds is fundamental to most literary works of the ancient Near East, both prose and poetry (Greenstein 2016: 461). Like biblical Hebrew poetry, the poetic texts of other traditions in the ancient Near East (Egyptian, Sumerian, Akkadian) do not exhibit recoverable metrical versification systems. Cognitive questions regarding the nature of the poetic line and how repetition is organized in relation to verse structure are germane for these neighboring literary traditions as well. Formulations of “parallelism” by Lowth and later scholars, especially Jakobson, have substantially impacted comparative literature, and the label “parallelism” has been assigned to many phenomena. Yet the problems of “parallelism” are not unknown in comparative literature. J. J. Fox writes that “a phenomenon so widely noted and so little understood warrants initial scholarly caution,” especially since canonical parallelism has not been rigorously researched (2014: 30). A challenge for comparative literature is to delineate what exactly is meant by the term “parallelism,” if it is to serve any comparative function at all. Fox notes accurately that the extensive “study of Biblical parallelism remains largely a self-referencing field and only rarely draws upon, or contributes to, a wider global discussion” (42). Although global discussion is outside the scope of this book, this study contributes a cognitive approach oriented toward line perception that may be of value for comparative research. Scholars of “canonic parallelism” traditions can likewise ask how the poetic lines emerge in mental organization in a particular tradition: in relation to an external template, in relation to each other, a combination of both (like the biblical acrostics), or in some other way. I have argued in this book that the biblical poetic versification system is grounded in normal cognitive processing. This cognitive poetics approach to the biblical poetic line is able to provide a unified account of how lines emerge in diverse biblical poems. As my own paradigms and expectations for biblical poetry have gradually shifted, I have found this approach extremely rewarding for reading biblical poems, not just in understanding poetic structure but also in connecting these structures to the experience of poetic effects. How we mentally organize poetic structure affects our aesthetic experience and response to the poems; it affects poetry’s potential to move us. I invite fellow students of biblical poetry to listen with new expectations and to keep relistening again and again to the biblical poems, until they emerge with unparalleled artistry.
C o n c l u s i o n : U n pa r a l l e l e d P o e t r y
[ 301 ]
REFERENCES
Adams, Percy G. 1993. “Alliteration.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 36–38. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Albertazzi, Liliana. 2015. “Philosophical Background: Phenomenology.” In The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, 21– 40. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Alonso Schökel, Luis. 1988. A Manual of Hebrew Poetics. Subsidia Biblica 11. Rome: Editrice Pontificio Istituto Biblico. Alter, Robert. 2011. The Art of Biblical Poetry. Rev. and updated ed. New York: Basic Books. Alter, Robert. 2019a. The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary. Vol. 1, The Five Books of Moses. New York: W. W. Norton. Alter, Robert. 2019b. The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary. Vol. 2, Prophets. New York: W. W. Norton. Alter, Robert. 2019c. The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary. Vol. 3, The Writings. New York: W. W. Norton. Amzallag, Nissim, and Mikhal Avriel. 2010. “Complex Antiphony in David’s Lament and Its Literary Significance.” Vetus Testamentum 60 (1): 1–14. Andersen, Francis I. 1995. “What Biblical Scholars Might Learn from Emily Dickinson.” In Words Remembered, Texts Renewed: Essays in Honour of John F. A. Sawyer, edited by Jon Davies, Graham Harvey, and Wilfred G. E. Watson, 52–79. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic. Andersen, Francis I., and A. Dean Forbes. 1983. “‘Prose Particle’ Counts of the Hebrew Bible.” In The Word of the Lord Shall Go Forth: Essays in Honor of David Noel Freedman in Celebration of his Sixtieth Birthday, edited by Carol L. Meyers and M. O’Connor, 165–83. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Andersen, Francis I., and David Noel Freedman. 2000. Micah: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New York: Doubleday. Anderson, A. A. 1989. 2 Samuel. Dallas: Word Books. Arnheim, Rudolf. 1974. Art and Visual Perception: A Psychology of the Creative Eye. Rev. ed. Berkeley: University of California Press. First published 1954. Ayars, Matthew I. 2018. The Shape of Hebrew Poetry: Exploring the Discourse Function of Linguistic Parallelism in the Egyptian Hallel. Studia Semitica Neerlandica 70. Leiden: Brill. Baddeley, Alan D. 1986. Working Memory. Oxford Psychology Series 11. Oxford: Clarendon. Baddeley, Alan D. 2012. “Working Memory: Theories, Models, and Controversies.” Annual Review of Psychology 63: 1–29.
Baldick, Chris. 2001. The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Bauer, Hans, Pontus Leander, and Paul Kahle. 1991. Historische Grammatik der hebräischen Sprache des Alten Testamentes. Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlag. Bellinger, William H., Jr., and Andrew E. Arterbury. 2005. “‘Returning’ to the Hospitality of the Lord: A Reconsideration of Psalm 23,5-6.” Biblica 86 (3): 387–95. Bellis, Alice Ogden. 2021. “I Am Burnt but Beautiful: Translating Song 1:5a.” Journal of Biblical Literature 140 (1): 91–111. Ben-Amos, Dan. 1980. “Review of Isodore Okpewho, The Epic in Africa: Toward a Poetics of the Oral Performance.” Africana Journal 11: 68–70. Berlin, Adele. 1985. The Dynamics of Biblical Parallelism. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Berlin, Adele. 1991. Biblical Poetry through Medieval Jewish Eyes. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Berlin, Adele. 1996. “Introduction to Hebrew Poetry.” In The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. 4, edited by Leander E. Keck et al., 301–15. Nashville: Abingdon. Berlin, Adele. 2002. Lamentations: A Commentary. Louisville: Westminster John Knox. Berlin, Adele. Forthcoming. Song of Songs. Hermeneia series. Minneapolis: Fortress. Blenkinsopp, Joseph. 2000. Isaiah 1–39: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New York: Doubleday. Braun, Joachim. 2002. Music in Ancient Israel/Palestine: Archaeological, Written, and Comparative Sources. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans. Brettler, Marc Zvi. 2018. “Enallage in the Bible.” TheTorah.com. https://www.thetorah. com/article/enallage-in-the-bible. Bridges, Robert Seymour. 1921. Milton’s Prosody: With a Chapter on Accentual Verse and Notes. Oxford: Clarendon. Brogan, T. V. F. 1993a. “Accentual Verse.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 6–7. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Brogan, T. V. F. 1993b. “Line.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 694–97. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Brogan, T. V. F. 1993c. “Meter.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 768–83. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Brogan, T. V. F. 1993d. “Poetry.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 938–42. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Brogan, T. V. F. 1993e. “Prose Rhythm.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 979–81. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Brogan, T. V. F. 1993f. “Rhythm.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 1066–70. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Brogan, T. V. F. 1993g. “Verse and Prose.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 1346–51. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Brogan, T. V. F., and Ilse Lehiste. 2012. “Isochronism or Isochrony.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 733–34. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
[ 304 ] References
Brooks, Gwendolyn. 1966. “We Real Cool.” Detroit: Broadside. Brotzman, Ellis R., and Eric J. Tully. 2016. Old Testament Textual Criticism: A Practical Introduction. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic. Brown, Francis, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs. 1952. A Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament, with an Appendix Containing the Biblical Aramaic. Oxford: Clarendon. Budde, Karl. 1882. “Die hebräische Klagelied.” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 2: 1–52. Burns, Jeffrey. 2011. The Music of Psalms, Proverbs and Job in the Hebrew Bible: A Revised Theory of Musical Accents in the Hebrew Bible. Edited by David Bers and Stephen Tree. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Butler, Trent C. 2009. Judges. Nashville: Thomas Nelson. Carr, David M. 2005. Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Chavel, Simeon. 2018. “The Utility and Futility of Poetry in Qohelet.” In Biblical Poetry and the Art of Close Reading, edited by J. Blake Couey and Elaine T. James, 93– 110. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Chavel, Simeon. 2022. “Biblical ‘Alternation’ and Its Poetics.” In “Like ͗Ilu Are You Wise”: Studies in Northwest Semitic Languages and Literatures in Honor of Dennis G. Pardee, edited by H. H. Hardy II, Joseph Lam, and Eric D. Reymond, 179–203. Chicago: Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Christensen, Duane L. 1985. “Prose and Poetry in the Bible: The Narrative Poetics of Deuteronomy.” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 97: 179–89. Cloete, Walter Theophilus Woldemar. 1988. “Verse and Prose: Does the Distinction Apply to the Old Testament?” Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 14: 9–15. Cloete, Walter Theophilus Woldemar. 1989. Versification and Syntax in Jeremiah 2– 25: Syntactical Constraints in Hebrew Colometry. Atlanta: Scholars. Cohen, Harold R. (Chaim). 1978. Biblical Hapax Legomena in the Light of Akkadian and Ugaritic. Missoula, MT: Scholars. Cohen, Harold R. (Chaim). 1996. “The Meaning of ‘ צלמותDarkness’: A Study in Philological Method.” In Texts, Temples, and Traditions: A Tribute to Menahem Haran, edited by Michael V. Fox, Victor Avigdor Hurowitz, Avi M. Hurvitz, Michael L. Klein, Baruch J. Schwartz, and Nili Shupak, 287–309. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Collins, Terence. 1978. Line-Forms in Hebrew Poetry: A Grammatical Approach to the Stylistic Study of the Hebrew Prophets. Rome: Biblical Institute. Cook, John A. 2008. “Hebrew Language.” In Dictionary of the Old Testament: Wisdom, Poetry and Writings, edited by Tremper Longman III and Peter Enns, 260–67. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity. Cook, John A. 2012. “Hebrew Language.” In Dictionary of the Old Testament: Prophets, edited by Mark J. Boda and J. Gordon McConville, 307–18. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity. Cooper, Alan. 1976. “Biblical Poetics: A Linguistic Approach.” PhD diss., Yale University. Cooper, Alan. 1987. “On Reading Biblical Poetry.” MAARAV 4: 221–41. Cooper, G. Burns. 1998. Mysterious Music: Rhythm and Free Verse. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Cooper, Lane. 1932. The Rhetoric of Aristotle: An Expanded Translation with Supplementary Examples for Students of Composition and Public Speaking. New York: D. Appleton. Couey, J. Blake. 2015. Reading the Poetry of First Isaiah. New York: Oxford University Press.
References [ 305 ]
Cowan, Nelson. 2000. “The Magical Number 4 in Short-Term Memory: A Reconsideration of Mental Storage Capacity.” Behavioral and Brain Sciences 24: 87–185. Cowan, Nelson, Jeffrey N. Rouder, Christopher L. Blume, and J. Scott Saults. 2012. “Models of Verbal Working Memory Capacity: What Does It Take to Make Them Work?” Psychological Review 119 (3): 480–99. Craigie, Peter C. 1983. Psalms 1–50. Waco, TX: Word Books. Crystal, David. 2003. A Dictionary of Linguistics and Phonetics. 5th ed. Malden, MA: Blackwell. Culler, Jonathan. 2012. “Structuralism: III. French and American Schools.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 1363–65. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. D’Andrade, Roy Goodwin. 1981. “The Cultural Part of Cognition.” Cognitive Science 5: 179–95. Davis, Ellen F. 2000. Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs. Louisville: Presbyterian. Davis, Kipp. 2017. “Structure, Stichometry, and Standardisation: An Analysis of Scribal Features in a Selection of the Dead Sea Psalms Scrolls.” In Functions of Psalms and Prayers in the Late Second Temple Period, edited by Mika S. Pajunen and Jeremy Penner, 155–84. Berlin: De Gruyter. DeCaen, Vincent. 2009. “Theme and Variation in Psalm 111: Phrase and Foot in Generative-Metrical Perspective.” Journal of Semitic Studies 54 (1): 81–109. DeCaen, Vincent, and B. Elan Dresher. 2020. “Pausal Forms and Prosodic Structure in Tiberian Hebrew.” In Studies in Semitic Vocalisation and Reading Traditions, edited by Aaron D. Hornkohl and Geoffrey Khan, 331–77. Cambridge: Open Book. de Hoop, Raymond. 2000a. “The Colometry of Hebrew Verse and the Masoretic Accents: Evaluation of a Recent Approach (Part 1).” Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 26 (1): 47–73. de Hoop, Raymond. 2000b. “The Colometry of Hebrew Verse and the Masoretic Accents: Evaluation of a Recent Approach, Part II.” Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 26 (2): 65–100. de Hoop, Raymond. 2000c. “Lamentations: The Qinah- Metre Questioned.” In Delimitation Criticism: A New Tool in Biblical Scholarship, edited by Marjo C. A. Korpel and Josef M. Oesch, 80–104. Pericope 1. Assen: Van Gorcum. de Moor, Johannes C. 1978. “The Art of Versification in Ugarit and Israel. I: The Rhythmical Structure.” In Studies in Bible and the Ancient Near East: Presented to Samuel E. Loewenstamm, on His Seventieth Birthday, edited by Yitshak Avishur and Joshua Blau, 119–39. Jerusalem: E. Rubinstein’s. Denham, Susan L., and István Winkler. 2015. “Auditory Perceptual Organization.” In The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, 601–20. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Doan, William, and Terry Giles. 2005. Prophets, Performance, and Power: Performance Criticism of the Hebrew Bible. New York: T&T Clark. Dobbs-Allsopp, F. W. 2001a. “The Enjambing Line in Lamentations: A Taxonomy (Part 1).” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 113: 219–39. Dobbs-Allsopp, F. W. 2001b. “The Effects of Enjambment in Lamentations (Part 2).” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 113: 370–85. Dobbs-Allsopp, F. W. 2015. On Biblical Poetry. New York: Oxford University Press. Dobbs-Allsopp, F. W. 2021. “Robert Lowth, Parallelism, and Biblical Poetry.” Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 21, Article 2. Dotan, Aron. 2001. Foreword to Biblia Hebraica Leningradensia, vii–xxiii. Leiden: Brill.
[ 306 ] References
Dotan, Aron. 2007. “Masorah.” In Encyclopaedia Judaica, 2nd ed., edited by Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, vol. 13, 603–56. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA. Dresher, Bezalel Elan. 1994. “The Prosodic Basis of the Tiberian Hebrew System of Accents.” Language 70: 1–52. Dresher, Bezalel Elan. 2008. “Between Music and Speech: The Relationship between Gregorian and Hebrew Chant.” Toronto Working Papers in Linguistics 27: 43–58. Dresher, Bezalel Elan. 2013. “Biblical Accents: Prosody.” In Encyclopedia of Hebrew Language and Linguistics, edited by Geoffrey Khan, vol. 1, 288–96. Leiden: Brill. Durham, John I. 1987. Exodus. Waco, TX: Word Books. Ellis, Willis Davis. 1938. A Source Book of Gestalt Psychology. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Fabb, Nigel. 1997. Linguistics and Literature: Language in the Verbal Arts of the World. Oxford: Blackwell. Fabb, Nigel. 2009. “Formal Interactions in Poetic Meter.” In Versatility in Versification: Multidisciplinary Approaches to Metrics, edited by Tonya Kim Dewey and Frog, 147–65. New York: Peter Lang. Fabb, Nigel. 2010. “The Non-linguistic in Poetic Language: A Generative Approach.” Journal of Literary Theory 4 (1): 1–18. Fabb, Nigel. 2013. “There Is No Psychological Limit on the Duration of Metrical Lines in Performance: Against Turner and Pöppel.” International Journal of Literary Linguistics 2 (1): 1–29. Fabb, Nigel. 2015. What Is Poetry? Language and Memory in the Poems of the World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Fathy, Ibrahim. 2012. “Egypt, Poetry of.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 390–93. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Ficker, R. 1997. “ רנןrnn to Rejoice.” In Theological Lexicon of the Old Testament, edited by Ernst Jenni and Claus Westermann, 1240–43. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. Finnegan, Ruth. 2012. Oral Literature in Africa. Cambridge: Open Book. Fitzgerald, Aloysius. 1990. “Hebrew Poetry.” In The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, edited by Raymond E. Brown, Joseph Fitzmyer, and Roland E. Murphy, 201–8. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall. Fokkelman, J. P. 2001. Reading Biblical Poetry: An Introductory Guide. Louisville: Westminster John Knox. Foster, Benjamin. 2012. “Sumerian Poetry.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 1376– 77. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Fox, James J. 1977. “Roman Jakobson and the Comparative Study of Parallelism.” In Roman Jakobson: Echoes of his Scholarship, edited by Daniel Armstrong and C. H. van Schooneveld, 59–90. Lisse: Peter De Ridder. Fox, James J. 2014. Explorations in Semantic Parallelism. Canberra: Australian National University Press. Fox, Michael V. 1985. The Song of Songs and the Ancient Egyptian Love Songs. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. Fox, Michael V. 2000. Proverbs 1–9: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New York: Doubleday. Fox, Michael V. 2009. Proverbs 10– 31: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
References [ 307 ]
Freedman, David Noel. 1972. “The Refrain in David’s Lament over Saul and Jonathan.” In Ex Orbe Religionum: Studia Geo Widengren Oblata, 1, edited by C. J. Bleeker, S. G. F. Brandon, and M. Simon, 115–26. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Freedman, David Noel. 1980. Pottery, Poetry, and Prophecy: Studies in Early Hebrew Poetry. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Freedman, David Noel. 1987. “Another Look at Biblical Hebrew Poetry.” In Directions in Biblical Hebrew Poetry, edited by Elaine R. Follis, 11–28. JSOT Supplement Series 40. Sheffield: JSOT. Freeman, Margaret H. 2009. Review of Toward a Theory of Cognitive Poetics, 2nd expanded and updated ed., by Reuven Tsur. Pragmatics and Cognition 17 (2): 450–57. Freeman, Margaret H. 2014. “Cognitive Poetics.” In The Routledge Handbook of Stylistics, edited by Michael Burke, 313–28. London: Routledge. Freeman, Margaret H. 2020. The Poem as Icon: A Study in Aesthetic Cognition. New York: Oxford University Press. Frigyesi, Judit. 1993. “Preliminary Thoughts toward the Study of Music without Clear Beat: The Example of ‘Flowing Rhythm’ in Jewish Nusaḥ.” Asian Music 24 (2): 59–88. Frog, and Lotte Tarkka, eds. 2017. “Parallelism in Verbal Art and Performance.” Special issue, Oral Tradition 31, no. 2. Garman, Michael. 1990. Psycholinguistics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Garr, W. Randall. 1985. Dialect Geography of Syria- Palestine, 1000– 586 B.C.E. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Garrett, Duane A. 2004. Song of Songs. In Song of Songs/Lamentations, 1–256. Word Biblical Commentary 23B. Nashville: Thomas Nelson. Garrett, Duane A. 2014. A Commentary on Exodus. Grand Rapids: Kregel. Gasparov, M. L. 1996. A History of European Versification. Translated by G. S. Smith and Marina Tarlinskaja. Edited by G. S. Smith, with Leofranc Holford-Strevens. Oxford: Clarendon. Gathercole, Susan E., and Alan D. Baddeley. 1993. Working Memory and Language. Hove, UK: L. Erlbaum. Gavins, Joanna, and Gerard Steen. 2003. Cognitive Poetics in Practice. London: Routledge. Geller, Stephen A. 1979. Parallelism in Early Biblical Poetry. Missoula, MT: Scholars. Geller, Stephen A. 1982. “Theory and Method in the Study of Biblical Poetry.” Jewish Quarterly Review 73 (1): 65–77. Geller, Stephen A. 1993. “Hebrew Prosody and Poetics: Biblical.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 509–11. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Gerber, Natalie. 2015. “Intonation and the Conventions of Free Verse.” Style 49 (1): 8–34. Gesenius, Wilhelm. 1910. Gesenius’ Hebrew Grammar. Edited by E. Kautzsch. Translated by A. E. Cowley. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Giese, Ronald L., Jr. 1994. “Strophic Hebrew Verse as Free Verse.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 61: 29–38. Giles, Terry, and William J. Doan. 2009. Twice Used Songs: Performance Criticism of the Songs of Ancient Israel. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. Gillingham, S. E. 1994. The Poems and Psalms of the Hebrew Bible. New York: Oxford University Press. Ginsberg, H. L. 1938. “A Ugaritic Parallel to 2 Sam 1:21.” Journal of Biblical Literature 57 (2): 209–13.
[ 308 ] References
Goldingay, John. 2006. Psalms. Vol. 1: Psalms 1–41. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic. Goldingay, John. 2008. Psalms. Vol. 3: Psalms 90–150. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic. Gombrich, E. H. 1985. Meditations on a Hobby Horse, and Other Essays on the Theory of Art. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Gordis, Robert. 1940. “The Biblical Root ŠDY-ŠD: Notes on 2 Sam. i.21; Jer. xviii.14; Ps. xci. 6; Job v.21.” Journal of Theological Studies 41: 34–43. Gottwald, Norman K. 1962. “Poetry, Hebrew.” In The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, vol. 3, edited by George Arthur Buttrick, 829–38. Nashville: Abingdon. Gous, Ignatius G. P. 1999. “Reason to Believe: Cognitive Strategy in the Acrostic Psalm 34.” Old Testament Essays 12 (3): 455–67. Gray, George Buchanan. 1915. The Forms of Hebrew Poetry: Considered with Special Reference to the Criticism and Interpretation of the Old Testament. London: Hodder and Stoughton. Greenstein, Edward L. 1974. “Two Variations of Grammatical Parallelism in Canaanite Poetry and Their Psycholinguistic Background.” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University 6: 87–105. Greenstein, Edward L. 1977. “One More Step on the Staircase.” Ugarit-Forschungen 9: 77–86. Greenstein, Edward L.1983. “How Does Parallelism Mean?” In A Sense of Text: The Art of Language in the Study of Biblical Literature, edited by Stephen A. Geller, Edward L. Greenstein, and Adele Berlin, 41–70. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Greenstein, Edward L. 1986–87. “Aspects of Biblical Poetry.” Jewish Book Annual 44: 33–42. Greenstein, Edward L. 2008. “Reanalysis in Biblical and Babylonian Poetry.” In Birkat Shalom: Studies in the Bible, Ancient Near Eastern Literature, and Postbiblical Judaism Presented to Shalom M. Paul on the Occasion of His Seventieth Birthday, edited by Chaim Cohen, Victor Avigdor Hurowitz, Avi Hurvitz, Yochanan Muffs, Baruch J. Schwartz, and Jeffrey H.Tigay, 499–510. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Greenstein, Edward L. 2012. “Hebrew Poetry: Biblical Poetry.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 601–3. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Greenstein, Edward L. 2014. “Direct Discourse and Parallelism.” In Discourse, Dialogue, and Debate in the Bible, edited by Athalya Brenner-Idan, 79–91. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press. Greenstein, Edward L. 2016. “Verbal Art and Literary Sensibilities in Ancient Near Eastern Context.” In The Wiley Blackwell Companion to Ancient Israel, edited by Susan Niditch, 456–75. West Sussex, UK: Wiley Blackwell. Greenstein, Edward L. 2018. “Signs of Poetry Past: Literariness in Pre-Biblical Hebrew Literature.” In Strength to Strength: Essays in Appreciation of Shaye J. D. Cohen, edited by Michael L. Satlow, 5–25. Providence, RI: Brown Judaic Studies. Grol, Harm W. M. van. 2000. “Analysis of the Verse Structure of Isaiah 24–27.” In Studies in Isaiah 24–27: The Isaiah Workshop, edited by Hendrik Jan Bosman and Harm van Grol, 51–80. Leiden: Brill. Gross, Walter. 1996. Die Satzteilfolge im Verbalsatz alttestamentlicher Prosa: untersucht an den Büchern Dtn, Ri und 2Kön. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr. Grosser, Emmylou J. 2013. “The Poetic Line as Part and Whole: A Perception-Oriented Approach to Lineation of Poems in the Hebrew Bible.” PhD diss., University of Wisconsin-Madison.
References [ 309 ]
Grosser, Emmylou J. 2017. “A Cognitive Poetics Approach to the Problem of Biblical Hebrew Poetic Lineation: Perception-Oriented Lineation of David’s Lament in 2 Samuel 1:19–27.” Hebrew Studies 58: 173–97. Grosser, Emmylou J. 2021. “What Symmetry Can Do That Parallelism Can’t: Line Perception and Poetic Effects in the Song of Deborah (Judges 5:2–31).” Vetus Testamentum 71 (2): 175–204. Gzella, Holger. 2013. “Northwest Semitic Languages and Hebrew.” In Encyclopedia of Hebrew Language and Linguistics, vol. 2, edited by Geoffrey Khan, 852–63. Leiden: Brill. Haïk-Vantoura, Suzanne, and John Wheeler. 1991. The Music of the Bible Revealed: The Deciphering of a Millenary Notation. Translated by Dennis Weber. Berkeley, CA: BIBAL. Hall, Donald. 1991. To Read Literature: Fiction, Poetry, Drama. 3rd ed. Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Harshav, Benjamin. 2014. Three Thousand Years of Hebrew Versification: Essays in Comparative Prosody. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Hauser, Alan J. 1980. “Judges 5: Parataxis in Hebrew Poetry.” Journal of Biblical Literature 99 (1): 23–41. Headland, Thomas N., Kenneth L. Pike, and Marvin Harris. 1990. Emics and Etics: The Insider/Outsider Debate. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage. Hobbins, John F. 2007. “Regularities in Ancient Hebrew Verse: A New Descriptive Model.” Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 119 (4): 564–85. Holladay, William L. 1970. “Form and Word-Play in David’s Lament over Saul and Jonathan.” Vetus Testamentum 20: 153–89. Holladay, William L. 1999. “Hebrew Verse Structure Revisited (I): Which Words ‘Count’?” Journal of Biblical Literature 118 (1): 19–32. Holmstedt, Robert D. 2014. “Analyzing זֶ הGrammar and Reading זֶ הTexts of Ps 68:9 and Judg 5:5.” Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 14, Article 8. Holmstedt, Robert D. 2019. “Hebrew Poetry and the Appositive Style: Parallelism, Requiescat in Pace.” Vetus Testamentum 69: 617–48. Holmstedt, Robert D. 2021. “Investigating Ellipsis in Biblical Hebrew.” In Linguistic Studies on Biblical Hebrew, edited by Robert D. Holmstedt, 84–102. Leiden: Brill. Howard, David M., Jr. 1999. “Recent Trends in Psalms Study.” In The Face of Old Testament Studies: A Survey of Contemporary Approaches, edited by David W. Baker and Bill T. Arnold, 329–68. Grand Rapids: Baker Books. Hrushovski, Benjamin. 1960. “On Free Rhythms in Modern Poetry: Preliminary Remarks toward a Critical Theory of Their Structures and Functions.” In Style in Language, edited by Thomas A. Sebeok, 173–90. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Hrushovski, Benjamin. 2007. “Prosody, Hebrew.” In Encyclopaedia Judaica, 2nd ed., edited by Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, vol. 16, 595–623. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA. Jakobson, Roman. 1987. Language in Literature, edited by Krystyna Pomorska and Stephen Rudy. Cambridge, MA: Belknap. James, Elaine T. 2022. An Invitation to Biblical Poetry. New York: Oxford University Press. Jones, Ivor H. 1986. “Musical Instruments in the Bible, Part I.” Bible Translator 37 (1): 101–16. Joosten, Jan. 2015. “The Tiberian Vocalization and the Hebrew of the Second Temple Period.” In Hebrew of the Late Second Temple Period: Proceedings of a Sixth International Symposium on the Hebrew of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Ben Sira, edited by Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar and Pierre Van Hecke, 25–36. Leiden: Brill.
[ 310 ] References
Keel, Othmar. 1994. The Song of Songs: A Continental Commentary. Translated by Frederick J. Gaiser. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Kelley, Page H., Daniel S. Mynatt, and Timothy G. Crawford. 1998. The Masorah of Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia: Introduction and Annotated Glossary. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans. Koffka, K. 1935. Principles of Gestalt Psychology. New York: Harcourt, Brace. Köhler, Ludwig, Walter Baumgartner, and Johann Jakob Stamm. 2001. The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament. 2 vols. Translated and edited under the supervision of M. E. J. Richardson. Leiden: Brill. Köhler, Wolfgang. 1938. The Place of Value in a World of Facts. New York: Liveright. Kolyada, Yelena. 2009. A Compendium of Musical Instruments and Instrumental Terminology in the Bible. London: Equinox. Kraus, Hans-Joachim. 1988. Psalms 1–59: A Commentary. Minneapolis: Augsburg. Krohn, Rachel Anne- Lyne. 2021. “A Syntactic Description of Biblical Hebrew Poetry: The Revised and Extended Hebrew Verse Structure Model.” PhD Diss., Wycliffe College and the University of Toronto. Kubovy, Michael, and Martin van den Berg. 2008. “The Whole Is Equal to the Sum of Its Parts: A Probabilistic Model of Grouping by Proximity and Similarity in Regular Patterns.” Psychological Review 115 (1): 131–54. Kugel, James L. 1981. The Idea of Biblical Poetry: Parallelism and Its History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Kugel, James L. 1999. The Great Poems of the Bible: A Reader’s Companion with New Translations. New York: Free Press. Kuntz, J. Kenneth. 1998. “Biblical Hebrew Poetry in Recent Research, Part 1.” Currents in Research: Biblical Studies 6: 31–64. Kuntz, J. Kenneth. 1999. “Biblical Hebrew Poetry in Recent Research, Part 2.” Currents in Research: Biblical Studies 7: 35–79. Landy, Francis. 1992. “In Defense of Jakobson.” Journal of Biblical Literature 111 (1): 105–13. LeMon, Joel M., and Brent A. Strawn. 2008. “Parallelism.” In Dictionary of the Old Testament: Wisdom, Poetry and Writings, edited by Tremper Longman III and Peter Enns, 502–15. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity. Levine, Baruch A. 2000. Numbers 21–36: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New York: Doubleday. Liberman, Alvin M., Ignatius G. Mattingly, and Michael T. Turvey. 1972. “Language Codes and Memory Codes.” In Coding Processes in Human Memory, edited by Arthur W. Melton and Edwin Martin, 307–34. Washington, DC: V. H. Winston. Lichtenstein, Murray H. 1984. “Biblical Poetry.” In Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, edited by Barry W. Holtz, 105–27. New York: Simon & Schuster. Lichtheim, Miriam. 1973. Ancient Egyptian Literature: A Book of Readings. Vol. 1, The Old and Middle Kingdoms. Berkeley: University of California Press. Linafelt, Tod. 2008. “Private Poetry and Public Eloquence in 2 Samuel 1:17–27: Hearing and Overhearing David’s Lament for Jonathan and Saul.” Journal of Religion 88 (4): 497–526. Linafelt, Tod, and F. W. Dobbs-Allsopp. 2010. “Poetic Line Structure in Qoheleth 3:1.” Vetus Testamentum 60: 249–59. Lode, Lars. 1984. “Postverbal Word Order in Biblical Hebrew: Structure and Function.” Semitics 9: 113–64.
References [ 311 ]
Lode, Lars. 1988. “Postverbal Word Order in Biblical Hebrew: Structure and Function, Part Two.” Semitics 10: 24–39. Loewenstamm, Samuel E. 1969. “The Expanded Colon in Ugaritic and Biblical Verse.” Journal of Semitic Studies 14 (2): 176–96. Loewenstamm, Samuel E. 1975. “The Expanded Colon, Reconsidered.” Ugarit- Forschungen 7: 261–64. Longenbach, James. 2008. The Art of the Poetic Line. Minneapolis: Graywolf Press. Longman, Tremper, III. 1982. “A Critique of Two Recent Metrical Systems.” Biblica 63: 230–54. Lotman, Jurij M. 1972. Vorlesungen zu einer strukturalen Poetik: Einführung, Theorie des Verses. Translated by Waltraud Hachnow. Theorie und Geschichte der Literatur und der schönen Künste 14, edited by Karl Eimermacher. Munich: Fink. Lotz, John. 1960. “Metric Typology.” In Style in Language, edited by Thomas A. Sebeok, 135–48. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Lotz, John. 1972. “Elements of Versification.” In Versification: Major Language Types, edited by W. K. Wimsatt, 1–21. New York: New York University Press. Lowth, Robert. 1825. Isaiah: A New Translation; with a Preliminary Dissertation, and Notes, Critical, Philological, and Explanatory. London: W. Baynes and Son. First published 1778. Lowth, Robert. 1835. Lectures on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews, translated by G. Gregory. 3rd ed. London: Thomas Tegg & Son. First published 1753 (in Latin). Lunn, Nicholas P. 2006. Word-Order Variation in Biblical Hebrew Poetry: Differentiating Pragmatics and Poetics. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Marlowe, W. Creighton. 2002–3. “No Fear! Psalm 23 as a Careful, Conceptual Chiasm.” Asbury Theological Journal 57 (2)–58 (1): 65–80. Marlowe, W. Creighton. 2011. “David’s I-Thou Discourse: Verbal Chiastic Patterns in Psalm 23.” Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament 25 (1): 105–15. Mathy, Fabien, Mustapha Chekaf, and Nelson Cowan. 2018. “Simple and Complex Working Memory Tasks Allow Similar Benefits of Information Compression.” Journal of Cognition 1 (1), Article 31: 1–12. McCarter, P. Kyle. 1984. II Samuel: A New Translation with Introduction, Notes, and Commentary. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. McConnell, Walter L., III. 2008. “Meter.” In Dictionary of the Old Testament: Wisdom, Poetry and Writings, edited by Tremper Longman III and Peter Enns, 472–76. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press. Metzger, Wolfgang. 2006. Laws of Seeing. Translated by Lothar Spillmann, Steven Lehar, Mimsey Stromeyer, and Michael Wertheimer. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. Meyer, Leonard B. 1956. Emotion and Meaning in Music. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Milgrom, Jacob. 1990. Numbers []במדבר: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society. Miller, Cynthia L. 2003. “A Linguistic Approach to Ellipsis in Biblical Poetry (Or, What to Do When Exegesis of What Is There Depends on What Isn’t).” Bulletin for Biblical Research 13 (2): 251–70. Miller, Cynthia L. 2005. “Ellipsis Involving Negation in Biblical Poetry.” In Seeking Out the Wisdom of the Ancients: Essays Offered to Honor Michael V. Fox on the Occasion of His Sixty-Fifth Birthday, edited by Ronald L. Troxel, Kelvin G. Friebel, and Dennis Robert Magary, 37–52. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Miller, Cynthia L. 2007a. “Constraints on Ellipsis in Biblical Hebrew.” In Studies in Comparative Semitic and Afroasiatic Linguistics Presented to Gene B. Gragg, edited
[ 312 ] References
by Cynthia L. Miller, 165–80. Chicago: Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Miller, Cynthia L. 2007b. “The Relation of Coordination to Verb Gapping in Biblical Poetry.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 32 (1): 41–60. Miller, Cynthia L. 2007c. “The Syntax of Elliptical Comparative Constructions.” Zeitschrift für Althebraistik 17–20: 136–49. Miller, Cynthia L. 2008a. “Ellipsis.” In Dictionary of the Old Testament: Wisdom, Poetry and Writings, edited by Tremper Longman III and Peter Enns, 156–60. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press. Miller, Cynthia L. 2008b. “A Reconsideration of ‘Double-Duty’ Prepositions in Biblical Poetry.” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society 31: 99–110. Miller, Cynthia L. 2010a. “Definiteness and the Vocative in Biblical Hebrew.” Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 36: 43–65. Miller, Cynthia L. 2010b. “Vocative Syntax in Biblical Hebrew Prose and Poetry: A Preliminary Analysis.” Journal of Semitic Studies 55 (2): 347–64. Miller, George A. 1956. “The Magical Number Seven, Plus or Minus Two: Some Limits on Our Capacity for Processing Information.” Psychological Review 63 (2): 81–97. Miller, Robert D., II. 2011. Oral Tradition in Ancient Israel. Eugene, OR: Cascade Books. Miller, Shem. 2015. “The Oral-Written Textuality of Stichographic Poetry in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Dead Sea Discoveries 22 (2): 162–88. Miller- Naudé, Cynthia L. 2011. “Exploring the Limits of Ambiguity in Biblical Poetry: Interpreting Elliptical Structures.” Journal for Semitics 20 (2): 323–52. Miller-Naudé, Cynthia L. 2013. Ellipsis: Biblical Hebrew. In Encyclopedia of Hebrew Language and Linguistics, Vol. 1, edited by Geoffrey Khan, 807–12. Leiden: Brill. Mitchell, David C. 2012. “Resinging the Temple Psalmody.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 36 (3): 355–78. Moshavi, Adina. 2010. Word Order in the Biblical Hebrew Finite Clause: A Syntactic and Pragmatic Analysis of Preposing. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Moshavi, Adina. 2011. “Rhetorical Question or Assertion? The Pragmatics of ֲהלֹאin Biblical Hebrew.” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society 32: 91–105. Neisser, Ulric. 1968. “The Multiplicity of Thought.” In Thinking and Reasoning: Selected Readings, edited by P. C. Wason and P. N. Johnson-Laird, 307–23. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Nel, P. J. 1992. “Parallelism and Recurrence in Biblical Hebrew Poetry: A Theoretical Proposal.” Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 18: 135–43. Nelson, Richard D. 2002. Deuteronomy: A Commentary. Louisville: Westminster John Knox. Nespor, Marina, and Irene Vogel. 1986. Prosodic Phonology. Studies in Generative Grammar 28. Dordrecht, Holland: Foris. Nettl, Bruno. 1986. “Near and Middle East.” In The New Harvard Dictionary of Music, edited by Don Michael Randel, 528–34. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press. Nettl, Bruno. 2004. “Some Questions on the Relationship of Music Archaeology and Ethnomusicology: Informal Comments on Constructing the Past from the Present.” In Studien zur Musikarchäologie, IV, edited by Ellen Hickmann and Ricardo Eichmann, 117–24. Orient-Archäologie 15. Rahden, Westphalia: Verlag Marie Leidorf. Nettl, Bruno. 2008. “Music of the Middle East.” In Excursions in World Music, edited by Bruno Nettl, 54–87. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall. Niditch, Susan. 1996. Oral World and Written Word: Ancient Israelite Literature. Louisville: Westminster John Knox.
References [ 313 ]
Niditch, Susan. 2008. Judges. Louisville: Westminster John Knox. Niditch, Susan. 2010. “Hebrew Bible and Oral Literature: Misconceptions and New Directions.” In The Interface of Orality and Writing: Speaking, Seeing, Writing in the Shaping of New Genres, edited by Annette Weissenrieder and Robert B. Coote, 3–18. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck. Notarius, Tania. 2012. “The Archaic System of Verbal Tenses in ‘Archaic’ Biblical Poetry.” In Diachrony in Biblical Hebrew, edited by Cynthia L. Miller-Naudé and Ziony Zevit, 193–207. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Notarius, Tania. 2017. “Lexical Isoglosses of Archaic Hebrew: ( ְּפ ִל ִיליםDeut 32:31) and ( ֵּכןJudg 5:15) as Case Studies.” Hebrew Studies 58: 81–97. Notarius, Tania. 2018. “‘Double Segmentation’ in Biblical Hebrew Poetry and the Poetic Cantillation System.” Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft. 168 (2): 333–52. Noth, Martin. 1968. Numbers: A Commentary. Philadelphia: Westminster Press. O’Connor, M. 1993. “Parallelism.” In The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Alex Preminger and T. V. F. Brogan, 877–79. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. O’Connor, M. 1997. Hebrew Verse Structure. 2nd printing with afterword. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. First published 1980. Orlinsky, Harry M. 1966. “Prolegomenon: The Masoretic Text: A Critical Evaluation.” To Introduction to the Massoretico-Critical Edition of the Hebrew Bible, by Christian D. Ginsburg, i–xlv. New York: Ktav. Owen, Stephen. 2012. “Poetry.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 1065–68. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Palmer, Stephen E. 1999. Vision Science: Photons to Phenomenology. Cambridge. MA: MIT Press. Palmer, Stephen E. 2015. Foreword to The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, v–ix. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pardee, Dennis. 1981. “Ugaritic and Hebrew Metrics.” In Ugarit in Retrospect: Fifty Years of Ugarit and Ugaritic, edited by Gordon D. Young, 113–30. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Pardee, Dennis. 1983. Review of Hebrew Verse Structure, by M. O’Connor. Journal of Near Eastern Studies 42 (4): 298–301. Pardee, Dennis. 1988. Ugaritic and Hebrew Poetic Parallelism: A Trial Cut (ʿnt I and Proverbs 2). Vetus Testamentum Supplements 39. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Pardee, Dennis. 1990. “Structure and Meaning in Hebrew Poetry: The Example of Psalm 23.” MAARAV 5/6: 239–80. Pardee, Dennis. 2012. The Ugaritic Texts and the Origins of West Semitic Literary Composition. New York: Oxford University Press. Park, Sung Jin. 2013. “Application of the Tiberian Accentuation System for Colometry of Biblical Hebrew Poetry.” Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 39 (2): 113–28. Park, Sung Jin. 2017. Typology in Biblical Hebrew Meter: A Generative Metrical Approach. Lewiston, NY: Mellen. Parunak, Henry van Dyke. 1978. “Structural Studies in Ezekiel.” PhD diss., Harvard University. Parunak, Henry van Dyke. 1982. “Some Axioms for Literary Architecture.” Semitics 8: 1–16. Penkower, Jordan S. 2000. “Verse Divisions in the Hebrew Bible.” Vetus Testamentum 50 (3): 379–93.
[ 314 ] References
Person, Raymond F., Jr. 2010. The Deuteronomic History and the Book of Chronicles: Scribal Works in an Oral World. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature. Petersen, David L., and Kent Harold Richards. 1992. Interpreting Hebrew Poetry. Minneapolis: Fortress. Peterson, Mary A. 2015. “Low-Level and High-Level Contributions to Figure-Ground Organization.” In The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, 259–80. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Peterson, Mary A., and Emily Skow-Grant. 2003. “Memory and Learning in Figure- Ground Perception.” In Cognitive Vision: The Psychology of Learning and Motivation, edited by David E. Irwin and Brian H. Ross, 1–34. San Diego, CA: Academic. Pitcher, Sophia. 2020. “A Prosodic Model for Tiberian Hebrew: A Complexity Approach to the Features, Structures, and Functions of the Masoretic Cantillation Accents.” PhD Diss., University of the Free State, Bloemfontein. Pitcher, Sophia. Forthcoming. “The Medieval Prosodic Orthography of the Tiberian Masoretic Reading Tradition.” Journal of Semitic Studies. Polak, Frank H. 1996. “On Prose and Poetry in the Book of Job.” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University 24: 61–97. Pomerantz, James R., and Anna I. Cragin. 2015. “Emergent Features and Feature Combination.” In The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, 88–107. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pope, Marvin H. 1977. Song of Songs: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Pratt, Carroll C. 1969. “Wolfgang Köhler—1887–1967.” In The Task of Gestalt Psychology, by Wolfgang Köhler, 2–29. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Propp, William H. C. 1999. Exodus 1–18: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New York: Doubleday. Reiner, Erica, and Walter Farber. 2012. “Assyria and Babylonia, Poetry of.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 95–97. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Renz, Thomas. 2003. Colometry and Accentuation in Hebrew Prophetic Poetry. Waltrop: Hartmut Senner. Revell, E. J. 1976. “Biblical Punctuation and Chant in the Second Temple Period.” Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman Period 7: 181–98. Revell, E. J. 1980. “Pausal Forms in Biblical Hebrew: Their Function, Origin and Significance.” Journal of Semitic Studies 25: 165–79. Revell, E. J. 1981. “Pausal Forms and the Structure of Biblical Poetry.” Vetus Testamentum 31 (2): 186–99. Revell, E. J. 2004. “Reaction of Prof. J. Revell on the Five Theses Formulated by Paul Sanders for a Planned Discussion at the SBL Groningen Meeting 2004.” http:// www.pericope.net/Assets/pericope_texts/Reaction-JRevell.pdf. Revell, E. J. 2015. The Pausal System: Divisions in the Hebrew Biblical Text as Marked by Voweling and Stress Position, edited by Raymond de Hoop and Paul Sanders. Pericope 10. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix. Richardson, Alan. 2004. “Studies in Literature and Cognition: A Field Map.” In The Work of Fiction: Cognition, Culture, and Complexity, edited by Alan Richardson and Ellen Spolksy, 1–29. Burlington, VT: Ashgate. Rösel, Martin. 2007. “The Reading and Translation of the Divine Name in the Masoretic Tradition and the Greek Pentateuch.” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 31 (4): 411–28.
References [ 315 ]
Ruprecht, E. 1997. “ ׂשמחśmḥ to Rejoice.” In Theological Lexicon of the Old Testament, edited by Ernst Jenni and Claus Westermann, 1272–77. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson. Salters, R. B. 2010. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Lamentations. London: T&T Clark. Sanders, Paul. 2002. “The Colometric Layout of Psalms 1 to 14 in the Aleppo Codex.” In Studies in Scriptural Unit Division, edited by Marjo C. A. Korpel and Josef M. Oesch, 226–57. Pericope 3. Assen: Van Gorcum. Sanders, Paul. 2003. “Pausal Forms and the Delimitation of Cola in Biblical Hebrew Poetry.” In Unit Delimitation in Biblical Hebrew and Northwest Semitic Literature, edited by Marjo C. A. Korpel and Josef M. Oesch, 264–78. Pericope 4. Assen: Van Gorcum. Sasson, Jack M. 1990. Jonah: A New Translation with Introduction, Commentary, and Interpretation. New York: Doubleday. Sasson, Jack M. 2014. Judges 1–12: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Segert, Stanislav. 1992. “Assonance and Rhyme in Hebrew Poetry.” MAARAV 8: 171–79. Seow, C. L. 2013. “An Exquisitely Poetic Introduction to the Psalter.” Journal of Biblical Literature 132 (2): 275–93. Seybold, Klaus. 2003. Poetik der Psalmen. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer. Sharvit, Uri. 2001. “Liturgical Music of the Yemenite Jews in Israel.” In Garland Encyclopedia of World Music, vol. 6: The Middle East, edited by Virginia Danielson, Scott Marcus, and Dwight Reynolds, 1047–55. New York: Routledge. Shea, William H. 1986. “Chiasmus and the Structure of David’s Lament.” Journal of Biblical Literature 105 (1): 13–25. Shifman, Arie. 2012. “‘A Scent’ of the Spirit: Exegesis of an Enigmatic Verse (Isaiah 11:3).” Journal of Biblical Literature 131 (2): 241–49. Slobin, Dan I. 1971. Psycholinguistics. Glenview, IL: Scott Foresman. Smith, Barbara Herrnstein. 1968. Poetic Closure: A Study of How Poems End. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Stager, Lawrence E. 1988. “Archaeology, Ecology, and Social History: Background Themes to the Song of Deborah.” In Congress Volume: Jerusalem, 1986, edited by J. A. Emerton, 221–34. Leiden: Brill. Steele, Timothy. 2012. “Verse and Prose.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, 4th ed., edited by Roland Greene, 1507–13. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Steiner, Richard C. 2000. “Does the Biblical Hebrew Conjunction - וHave Many Meanings, One Meaning, or No Meaning at All?” Journal of Biblical Literature 119 (2): 249–67. Steiner, Richard C. 2005. “On the Dating of Hebrew Sound Changes (*Ḫ > Ḥ and *Ġ > Ꜥ) and Greek Translations (2 Esdras and Judith).” Journal of Biblical Literature 124 (2): 229–67. Steiner, Richard C. 2010. “Poetic Forms in the Masoretic Vocalization and Three Difficult Phrases in Jacob’s Blessing: יֶתר ְׂש ֵאת ֶ (Gen 49:3), צּועי ָע ָלה ִ ְ( י49:4), and ( יָבֹא ִׁשיֹלה49:10).” Journal of Biblical Literature 129 (2): 209–35. Sternberg, Meir. 1985. The Poetics of Biblical Narrative: Ideological Literature and the Drama of Reading. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Strawn, Brent A. 2018. “YHWH’s Poesie: The Gnadenformel (Exodus 34:6b–7), the Book of Exodus, and Beyond.” In Biblical Poetry and the Art of Close Reading, edited by J. Blake Couey and Elaine T. James, 237–56. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[ 316 ] References
Tartakovsky, Roi. 2015. “The Case for Pace.” Style 49 (1): 65–77. Tate, Marvin E. 1990. Psalms 51–100. Nashville: Thomas Nelson. Tatu, Silviu. 2007. “Graphic Devices Used by the Editors of Ancient and Mediaeval Manuscripts to Mark Verse-Lines in Classical Hebrew Poetry.” In Method in Unit Delimitation, edited by Marjo C. A. Korpel, Josef M. Oesch and Stanley E. Porter, 92–140. Pericope 6. Leiden: Brill. Teeter, Andrew. 2022. “Biblical Symmetry and Its Modern Detractors.” In IOSOT Congress Volume Aberdeen 2019, edited by Grant Macaskill, Christl M. Maier and Joachim Schaper, Vetus Testamentum Supplements, 435–73. Leiden: Brill. Tigay, Jeffrey Howard, and Alan Cooper. 2007. “Lamentations, Book of.” In Encyclopaedia Judaica, 2nd ed., edited by Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, vol. 12, 446–51. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA. Tov, Emanuel. 2001. “A Categorized List of All the ‘Biblical Texts’ Found in the Judaean Desert.” Dead Sea Discoveries 8 (1): 67–84. Tov, Emanuel. 2004. Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean Desert. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah 54. Leiden: Brill. Tov, Emanuel. 2015. “The Background of the Stichometric Arrangements of Poetry in the Judean Desert Scrolls.” In Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, Qumran, Septuagint: Collected Essays, vol. 3, 325–36. Vetus Testamentum Supplements 167. Leiden: Brill. Tsumura, David Toshio. 2017. “Verticality in Biblical Hebrew Parallelism.” In Advances in Biblical Hebrew Linguistics: Data, Methods, and Analyses, edited by Adina Moshavi and Tania Notarius, 189–206. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Tsur, Reuven. 2002. “Some Cognitive Foundations of ‘Cultural Programs.’” Poetics Today 23 (1): 63–89. Tsur, Reuven. 2008. Toward a Theory of Cognitive Poetics. 2nd ed. Brighton, UK: Sussex Academic. Tsur, Reuven. 2010. “Poetic Conventions as Cognitive Fossils.” Style 44 (4): 496–523. Tsur, Reuven. 2012. Poetic Rhythm: Structure and Performance: An Empirical Study in Cognitive Poetics. Rev. ed. Brighton, UK: Sussex Academic. Tsur, Reuven. 2017. Poetic Conventions as Cognitive Fossils. New York: Oxford University Press. Turner, Frederick, and Ernst Pöppel. 1983. “The Neural Lyre: Poetic Meter, the Brain and Time.” Poetry 142 (5): 277–309. Turner, Mark. 1991. Reading Minds: The Study of English in the Age of Cognitive Science. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Ulrich, Eugene, ed. 2010. The Biblical Qumran Scrolls: Transcriptions and Textual Variants. Vetus Testamentum Supplements 134. Leiden: Brill. Vance, Donald R. 2001. The Question of Meter in Biblical Hebrew Poetry. Studies in Bible and Early Christianity 46. Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen. Vandaele, Jeroen, and Geert Brône. 2009. “Cognitive Poetics. A Critical Introduction.” In Cognitive Poetics: Goals, Gains, and Gaps, edited by Geert Brône and Jeroen Vandaele, 1–29. Applications of Cognitive Linguistics 10. New York: Mouton de Gruyter. van der Helm, Peter A. 2015a. “Simplicity in Perceptual Organization.” In The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, 1027–45. Oxford: Oxford University Press. van der Helm, Peter A. 2015b. “Symmetry Perception.” In The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, 108–28. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
References [ 317 ]
van der Merwe, Christo H. J., Jacobus A. Naudé, and Jan H. Kroeze. 2017. A Biblical Hebrew Reference Grammar. 2nd ed. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark. van der Toorn, Karel. 2007. Scribal Culture and the Making of the Hebrew Bible. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Vayntrub, Jacqueline. 2019. Beyond Orality: Biblical Poetry on Its Own Terms. London: Routledge. Vendler, Helen. 2002. Poems, Poets, Poetry: An Introduction and Anthology. 2nd ed. Boston: Bedford /St. Martin’s. Wagemans, Johan. 2015. “Historical and Conceptual Background: Gestalt Theory.” In The Oxford Handbook of Perceptual Organization, edited by Johan Wagemans, 3– 20. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wagemans, Johan, James H. Elder, Michael Kubovy, Stephen E. Palmer, Mary A. Peterson, Manish Singh, and Rüdiger von der Heydt. 2012. “A Century of Gestalt Psychology in Visual Perception: I. Perceptual Grouping and Figure-Ground Organization.” Psychological Bulletin 138 (6): 1172–217. Waller, Daniel James. 2015. “Reduction to the First Idea: A Cognitive Approach to Biblical Hebrew Verse.” Kleine Untersuchungen zur Sprache des Alten Testaments und seiner Umwelt 18. Waltke, Bruce K., and M. O’Connor. 1990. An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Watson, Wilfred G. E. 2005. Classical Hebrew Poetry: A Guide to Its Techniques. London: T&T Clark. Weare, Jessica. 2012. “Anaphora.” In The Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, edited by Roland Greene, 50. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Weber, Beat. 2012. “Toward a Theory of the Poetry of the Hebrew Bible: The Poetry of the Psalms as a Test Case.” Bulletin for Biblical Research 22 (2): 157–88. Wellek, René, and Austin Warren. 1956. Theory of Literature. New York: Harcourt. Wendland, Ernst R. 2013. Orality and Its Implications for the Analysis, Translation, and Transmission of Scripture. Dallas: SIL International. Wertheimer, Max. 1938. “Laws of Organization in Perceptual Forms.” In A Source Book of Gestalt Psychology, edited by Willis D. Ellis, 71–88. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Wheelock, J. T. S. 1978. “Alliterative Functions in the Divina Commedia.” Lingua e Stile 13: 373–404. Willett, Steven J. 2002. “Working Memory and Its Constraints on Colometry.” Quaderni Urbinati di Cultura Classica, n.s., 71 (2): 7–19. Willett, Steven J. 2005. “Reconsidering Reuven Tsur’s Poetic Rhythm: Structure and Performance—an Empirical Study in Cognitive Poetics.” Journal of Pragmatics 37 (4): 497–503. Wiseman, Matthew David. 2016. “Thou with Me: A Study in the Structure of Psalm 23.” Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament 30 (2): 280–93. Woodrow, H. 1951. “Time Perception.” In Handbook of Experimental Psychology, edited by S. S. Stevens, 1224–36. New York: Wiley. Wulf, Friedrich. 1938. “Tendencies in Figural Variation.” In A Source Book of Gestalt Psychology, edited by Willis Davis Ellis, 136–48. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul. Yeivin, Israel. 1980. Introduction to the Tiberian Masorah. Translated by E. J. Revell. Missoula, MT: Scholars Press.
[ 318 ] References
Zapf, David L. 1984. “How Are the Mighty Fallen! A Study of 2 Samuel 1:17–27.” Grace Theological Journal 5: 95–126. Zevit, Ziony. 1986. “Psalms at the Poetic Precipice.” Hebrew Annual Review 10: 351–66. Zevit, Ziony. 1990. “Roman Jakobson, Psycholinguistics, and Biblical Poetry.” Journal of Biblical Literature 109 (3): 385–401. Zevit, Ziony. 1992. “Cognitive Theory and the Memorability of Biblical Poetry.” MAARAV 8: 199–212.
References [ 319 ]
A SELECTIVE INDEX OF AUTHORS, SUBJECTS, AND BIBLICAL TEXTS
For the benefit of digital users, indexed terms that span two pages (e.g., 52–53) may, on occasion, appear on only one of those pages Tables are indicated by t following the page number accents. See Masoretic accents acrostic, 22n.6, 35n.26, 251, 253, 254– 57, 258–59, 261–62, 294n.2, 301 affects, xxii Aleppo Codex, 25–28, 102–3n.66, 103n.69 anaphora, 94n.45 ancient Near Eastern poetry, 20–21, 300–1 antiphony, 12n.31 Arnheim, Rudolf, 17–18, 70–71, 78–80, 86, 95n.46, 99, 106, 109, 135–36, 138n.83, 144, 216n.88, 217, 221– 22, 268 articulateness, 208n.70 aurality, xx, 18, 22–23, 28–31, 85–86, 110–11, 135–36, 161, 171, 215–16, 263–64, 273, 285–86, 300 Baddeley, Alan, 263n.78, 265–67 balance, 42, 109, 135–44, 191–94, 247–48 as a cognitive schema, xxii–xxiii ballast variant, 136–37n.80 Berlin, Adele, 7n.14, 9n.21, 9n.24, 10n.26, 12n.33, 13nn.34–35, 15–16n.39, 34n.23, 39n.34, 46, 65n.21, 65n.23, 76nn.7–8, 80–81, 87n.26, 87n.27, 111n.7, 119nn.30–31, 153–54, 212n.79, 250–51n.47, 254n.55, 274n.9, 275–77, 278n.17 boundary, 86
line (see line boundary) prosodic (see prosodic phrase) Brogan, T. V. F., 6n.10, 7n.13, 8n.19, 9n.22, 33–34, 36, 39–40, 51–53, 272–75, 288 Brooks, Gwendolyn, 22, 56 caesura, 17, 45, 53–54n.8 cantillation, 33–34n.21, 83–84 See also Masoretic accents certainty, 127–28, 147n.98, 150, 160, 171, 186 change, 200–4 chiasm, 18, 36, 110–11, 161, 268–69, 284–85 closural allusion, 205–6, 207 closure, xxiii, 96–97, 105n.73, 109, 110– 11, 150, 179, 188–208 cognition, xxii–xxiii, 16 cognitive constraints, 17–18, 53–55 See also Gestalt principles of perception; immediate memory constraint cognitive poetics, 301 cognitive studies in biblical studies, 15–16n.39 cohesion, 87–90, 93 combinational potential, 18, 49–50, 64 compensation, 136–37, 141–42, 143–44 competing shapes, 233–36 conformation, 10–11, 14–15 continuation, 173–88, 189–90 rhythmic, 175–82
convention, 18, 53–54n.8, 62n.13, 64– 65, 110n.5, 112n.10, 204, 268–69, 275–77, 299 Cowan, Nelson, 264–66 Cunningham, J. V., xxi Dead Sea Scrolls, 24, 26–28, 31–32, 55, 57, 81–82 deep structure, xv–xvi, 12–13, 15– 16n.39, 49n.55, 117–18n.28 Deuteronomy 32 37, 237–38 32:1 48–49, 112–13, 138–39 32:2 151–52 32:8 95n.49, 154 32:10 87–89 32:15 243n.34 32:16 36 32:21 150–51 32:22 99–100, 196n.49, 278–79 32:42 117–18n.28, 151n.104 32:43 156 33:2 156–57, 238, 241n.32 33:18 137 dis-integration, 59n.10, 230–31, 232–33, 253–54, 278–79 Dobbs-Allsopp, F. W., 7–8n.16, 9n.24, 10n.26, 10n.27, 11n.30, 21n.4, 22n.7, 23–26, 36, 38–39n.32, 45, 52n.1, 55, 59n.11, 63n.15, 82n.16, 85n.23, 87n.27, 235n.20, 247n.39, 248–49n.42, 264n.79, 264n.81, 265n.87, 278n.17, 280n.24, 300n.20 Dresher, B. Elan, 33–34n.21, 82–85
enjambment, 56, 59n.9, 63n.15, 85n.23, 104n.70, 173, 217, 235–36, 248– 49n.42, 256–57 envelope structure, 197, 198–99, 202–3 equilibrium, 96–97, 110–11, 120–25, 137, 145–46, 149, 153–54, 186 equivalence, 14, 65n.21, 76, 80–81n.14, 87n.26, 111n.7, 118–19, 275–77 Exodus 2:1–7 283n.32 15 257 15:2 136–39 15:2–3 200 15:3 95 15:6 95–96 15:6–10 177–80, 182, 194n.46, 248 15:9 180 15:11 96–98 15:12–13 98–99, 267 15:18 37n.29, 207n.69, 237 34:6–7 280–81 expectation, 18, 62–64, 70–71, 96–97, 102, 108–9, 110n.5, 124, 137, 140, 143–44, 147, 150–51, 152, 158–59, 173, 174–75, 176–77, 181–82, 183, 188–89, 191–92, 208, 210, 216–17, 218, 259, 268–69, 299, 300 of nothing more, 189–90, 198–200 experiences, 217 Ezekiel 7 288–89 19 289n.45 26:17–18 289n.45 27 289–92
Ecclesiastes (Qohelet) 3:1 280n.24 3:1–8 188n.32 effects. See poetic effects elevated prose, 6–7, 284n.33, 288–92 Eliot, T. S., xx ellipsis, xv–xvi, 30, 49n.55, 76n.6, 96n.52, 119n.30, 127, 132–35, 139n.87, 230–31, 278–79, 280–81 embodied cognition, xix–xx, xxii–xxiii, 108, 110n.4, 135–36, 168 emergence, 18, 49–50, 57, 63–64, 167, 217–18, 278–79, 286–88, 299 enallage, 244n.37, 262n.73 end-fixing. See line, end-marking
features. See poetic features figure, 57–59, 217 figure-ground, 130, 131–32 figuration, xx, 59n.11 Fish, Stanley, xxi–xxii form-content dichotomy, 16n.41, 49–50, 64–65 form-function approach, 199n.55, 248– 49, 278 Fox, James, 13n.34, 13n.36, 275–77, 301 free-rhythm poetry, 10, 38–43 See also nonmetrical poetry free verse, xx–, 20–21, 38–39n.32, 56, 61–63, 94n.45, 217 Frost, Robert, xx
[ 322 ] A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts
generative grammar, xv–xvi, 49n.55 Genesis, 280n.24 1:1–2:3 272, 286–88 4:23–24 282n.28 7:11 284–85 21:1 285 31:40 284n.33 49:7 140–41 49:18 37n.29 49:22–26 283n.31 49:27 278–79, 297–98n.15 genuine part, 71–74, 250, 257–58 Gestalt principles of perception, xxiii, 17–18, 65, 70–71, 78, 81, 215–22, 268 Gestalt theory, xx–xxi, 69–81, 176n.9 good continuation. See continuation Greenstein, Edward, 5n.6, 12–13nn.33– 34, 15–16n.39, 22n.6, 42n.41, 49n.55, 64–65n.19, 96n.52, 119n.32, 132n.70, 161–62n.124, 190n.37, 284nn.33–34, 300–1 Halle and Keyser, xxi, 47–48n.52 Harshav, Benjamin, 12–13nn.33–34, 21n.4, 38–39, 43t, 87n.27 Hartman, Charles, xx Hrushovski, Benjamin. See Harshav, Benjamin iambic pentameter, 16–17, 53–54n.8 imbalance, 42, 142–48, 181, 191, 193– 94, 195, 247–48 immediate memory constraint, 17, 18, 45, 92n.39, 263–70 inclusio. See envelope structure induction, 216n.88 inference, 216n.88 integral, 237 integrated whole, 17–18, 69–70, 78, 98– 100, 104–6, 173n.2, 176 integration, 17–18, 57, 59, 64, 92, 93– 94, 149, 226–46 integrity perceptual, 47n.50, 208, 229–30 syntactic, 47n.50, 229n.10 intensification, 101, 189, 196–97, 220 Isaiah 1:2 246, 248–49 1:2–4 241–43
5:1 95n.49, 100 5:2 168–69n.137 5:7 35n.25 11:1–5 238–41 22:1–14 249n.43 23:4 135n.77 24:17 89–90, 234–35 38:18 135n.77 48:13 119n.30 62:8–9 117–18n.28 Jakobson, Roman, 7n.14, 12–13, 15– 16n.39, 46, 65n.21, 65n.23, 87n.26, 108n.1, 275–78, 301 Jeremiah 48:43 89 Job 1:1–3:2 6–7 3:26 90, 200–1 42:7–17 6–7 Johnson, Mark, xxiii Jonah 2:3 (ET 2:2) 76–77, 115–16, 190, 257n.64, 263, 267–68, 289n.46 2:3–10 (ET 2:2–9) 182–88, 206–7 2:4 (ET 2:3) xxii, 136n.79, 232, 233– 34, 278–79 2:4–5 (ET 2:3–4) 91–93, 94n.44 2:7 (ET 2:6) 93–94, 212–13, 219n.92, 278–79 2:9 (ET 2:8) 232–34 2:9–10 (ET 2:8–9) 213 2:10 (ET 2:9) 237 Joshua 10:12 284n.33 Judges 4 6–7, 20–21, 280 5 6–7, 20–21, 237–38, 280 5:3 175–77, 182, 201, 248 5:4 136–37n.80 5:4–5 128n.55, 157–59, 160, 208–9, 241n.32 5:6 128n.55, 159–60, 191, 233–34 5:10 148–49, 150, 211n.76, 218–19, 278–79 5:11 151n.104, 171n.145, 181n.19, 213–14, 237 5:12 48–49, 115, 139n.86, 147, 194n.46, 208–9 5:14 132–34, 141
A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts [ 323 ]
Judges (cont.) 5:15–16 209–10 5:17 136–37n.80, 140, 214–15, 231–32 5:18 132–34, 209n.72 5:19 154–56, 238, 269 5:23–24 180–82, 248 5:23–27 205 5:24 261 5:25 73–74, 76, 80–81, 94n.44, 116– 17, 139–40, 278–79 5:26 73–74, 76, 118–19, 125, 136– 37, 140 5:27 124–25, 142–43, 147, 148–49, 150, 205, 208–9 5:28 136–37, 139 5:29–30 169–71 5:31 237 Kugel, James, 6n.9, 7n.11, 7n.14, 8n.20, 9n.21, 9n.24, 10n.27, 12n.31, 12n.32, 13n.35, 24–26, 52n.1, 65n.23, 94n.43, 274n.9, 274n.10, 277, 279n.22, 283, 285 Lamentations, 247–57 1 249–53, 266, 289n.45 1:1 249–51, 257 1:2 251–52 1:4 252n.49 1:6 252, 252n.51 1:7 251n.48 1:13 252, 252n.49 1:15 252 1:17 252 1:22 252–53 2 253–55, 266, 289n.45 2:1 253–54, 257 2:15 261–62 2:19 253n.53 2:22 254 3 254–56, 266, 289n.45, 294n.2 3:1–3 255–56 3:8 263n.76 3:12–13 255–56 3:18 263n.78 3:21–22 255–56 3:31 255n.57 3:55–57 262–63 3:56 255–56, 296n.8 4 256
4:1 256, 257 5 257 Law of Continuous Dichotomy, xiv–xv, 84n.21 layouts of biblical poetry, 4–5, 19, 104n.70 ancient and medieval, 23–28 See also lineation, graphical Leningrad Codex, 25–28, 102–3n.66 leveling, 135–44, 145–46 levels of language, xv–xvi limited channel capacity hypothesis, 53– 54n.8, 60–61 line, xv, 4–5, 6, 7–9, 17–18, 19, 36–38, 59, 272, 277 as basic unit, 37n.30, 52–53 boundary, xxi–xxii, 97–98 breaks, 20–21, 23, 63–64 end-marking, 33–36, 40n.38, 56, 94–95, 235–36 lengths, 17, 43–46, 257–70, 289–91 one-word, 47n.50, 257–61 single (see line, unintegrated) structure, 14–15, 46–50, 217 unintegrated, 36–37, 56, 204, 207, 213–14, 237–46 lineation, xxi–xxii, 6, 19, 37, 268, 300 graphical, xiii, 55–59, 104n.70, 300n.19 line-grouping, xv, 17–18, 36–38, 47– 48n.52, 55, 56, 73, 226–27, 236, 294n.2 Longenbach, James, 36–37, 51–52, 274 Lowell, Amy, xxii Lowth, Robert, 10–15, 31–32, 39n.34, 55, 63n.16, 65n.23, 94n.43, 113n.14, 247n.39, 277–78, 301 manuscripts ancient, 23–25, 26–28 medieval, 25–28 Masoretic accents, xiv–xv, 83–86, 103n.68, 227n.2 Masoretic Text, 31–33 merism, 112–13, 284–85 meter, xxi, 9–11, 16–17, 34–35, 39–40 accentual, 9, 39n.35, 40–42 accentual-syllabic, xxi, 16–17, 39, 60– 61 (see also iambic pentameter) alliterative, 87n.28 Perception-Oriented Theory of, 16–17
[ 324 ] A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts
qinah, 247–57 syllabic, 9, 40–42 syntactic, 13n.35, 46–47 metrical perception, xxi metrical poetry, xx, 9–11, 20–21, 56, 60, 62–63, 110n.6, 173, 217, 235–36, 275–76n.12 Meyer, Leonard B., 17–18, 70, 173–74, 182n.22, 190n.35, 197n.51, 216n.89, 216n.90, 217 mental performance. See performance, mental Micah, 237–38 1:2 194 1:6–7 196–97 1:7 100–1, 120–21, 122–23, 175, 189, 229–30 1:10 93n.41 1:10–16 289n.45 3:9–12 121–24, 125, 157, 190n.36 3:9 143–44, 154, 191–92 3:10 137–39 4:1 124n.42 4:5 267–68n.94 Miller, George, 264–65 Milton, John, 60–61, 62 modification of a pattern. See change monocolon. See line, unintegrated music, 39n.33, 142n.90, 174, 179–80, 182n.22, 197n.51, 266 narrative, 6–7 narrative poetry, 7n.14 nonmetrical poetry, xx–xxi, 9–10, 20–21, 52–53 Numbers 6:24–26 282–83 23:7–10 125–32, 237–38 23:10 181n.19, 278–79 24:5 137 24:6 154 24:16 139n.86 O’Connor, M., 7n.15, 7–8nn.16–17, 12–13nn.32–35, 20–21n.1, 21n.4, 30n.14, 37n.30, 43–44, 46–49, 52n.1, 55, 134n.74, 151n.104, 163n.129, 166n.135, 167n.136, 229n.10, 235n.19, 257n.61, 279n.22, 280n.25 orality, 22–23, 52–53n.4, 273
parallelism, 4–7, 10–14, 59, 80–81, 87n.26, 93, 107, 157, 190n.37, 275–77 accentual, 12–13 and balance, 13n.34, 217 canonic, 12–13, 275–77, 301 in comparative literature, 13n.36, 110n.6, 275–77, 300–1 as the essence of all poetry, 12–13, 277 grammatical, 12–13, 278 as the identifying feature of biblical poetry, 14, 15–16n.39, 277–78 and linguistics, 14n.37, 275–77 (see also Jakobson, Roman) lexical, 12–13 as a meter, 13n.35 perceptibility of, 15–16n.39 phonological, 12–13 in prose, 12–13, 283–88 semantic, 12–13, 65n.23, 94n.43, 278 part/whole, xx–xxi, 17–18, 65, 69–81, 108, 218 pausal forms, 33–34n.21, 86–87n.25 pause, 33, 82–83 perception. See Gestalt principles of perception Perception-Oriented Theory of Meter. See meter, Perception-Oriented Theory of perceptual forces, 108–9, 120, 122–23 perceptual isochrony, 138n.84, 140–41n.88 performance, 60, 62–64 actual, 18, 22–23, 59n.10, 82 mental, 18, 59n.10, 217–18, 220–22, 228–29n.8 phrase. See prosodic phrase Pitcher, Sophia, xiv–xv, 33–34n.21, 83–85, 86–87n.25, 99n.57, 227n.2, 250–51n.47, 284n.33 poetic cognition, xix See also cognitive poetics poetic effects, xv, 7–9, 15–16n.39, 17– 18, 53n.6, 60, 62, 71n.3, 111n.7, 120n.34, 148, 173, 209, 218, 221, 235, 248–49, 259, 274, 278, 282–83 poetic features, 7–9, 20–21, 217, 277– 79, 280–81 poetic form, xx
A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts [ 325 ]
poetic function, 7n.14, 12–13, 87n.26, 277 poetic line. See line, structure poetic prose, xx poetics, 16n.40, 283, 288 poetic structure, xv, 7–8, 15–16n.39, 46– 50, 80–81, 189–90, 215–16, 217, 218, 272–77, 280–83 See also line, structure poetry, xx, 7–8, 274 terminology, xv Pope, Alexander, xxi Pound, Ezra, xx Prägnanz, 78n.11 pronunciation of ancient Hebrew, 31–33 prophetic books, 6–7, 288–92 prose, 59, 271–75, 280–83 See also verse and prose prose particles, 45, 278–79 prose poem, xx prose-poetry continuum, 6–9, 277 prose-verse distinction, 6–9, 52–53, 271–72, 272n.1, 273, 280–83 See also verse and prose prosodic phonology, xiv–xv, 82–86, 99n.57, 250–51n.47, 284n.33 prosodic phrase, xiv–xv, 82–86, 89–92, 95–99, 101–4 importance of for biblical poetic structure, 85–86n.24, 95n.46, 139, 195–96, 227n.2 prosody (phonological). See prosodic phonology prosody (poetic), xx, 83 Proteus Principle, 278n.20 See also form-function approach Proverbs 1:10–11 258 1:15 258 3:3 258n.66 10:1 113 10:9 144–45 10:12 145–46 14:31 114 proximity, 81–87, 102 Psalms 1:1 84–85, 101–6, 234–35, 278–79 1:6 206 6 204–5, 205n.66
6:11 (ET 6:10) 204–5 13:6 (ET 13:5) 168–69n.137 18:42 155n.110 20:8 (ET 20:7) 133n.72 23 3–7, 28–29, 278–79, 293–99 23:1 43–44 23:2 35, 111–12, 138–39 23:56 40–42 23:6 44 34 258 34:8 (ET 34:7) 258–59 48:7 (ET 48:6) 133n.73 66:20 85 89:26 119n.30 90:16–17 192n.39, 204, 205 96 95n.47 100 26–28, 29–30, 37, 226–29, 298–99 100:1 149, 150 100:1–2 30, 38, 57, 192n.40 100:3 237n.25 100:4–5 38 100:5 206 103 142n.90, 204–5 103:1–3 197–200 103:15–18 192–94 103:17 268n.94 103:19–22 197–200 106:29–34 283n.32 111–112 22n.6 118 197n.52 119 247, 258 119:46 259n.67 119:52 259 120:1–2 76–77 123:2 115n.22 133 247n.39 133:3 258n.66 138:7 119n.30 146–150 197n.52, 237 150 202–4, 207n.68, 257–58 150:6 237 psycholinguistics, 15–16n.39 qinah. See meter, qinah Qohelet. See Ecclesiastes (Qohelet) reader response, 16, 18 recurrence, 110n.6, 275–77 repetition of a final line, 204
[ 326 ] A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts
requiredness, 143n.91, 208–15 grammatical, 210–15, 218–19, 231–32 return to a norm, 194, 196 to a starting place, 197–200, 203–4, 210 rhyme, 34–36, 56, 94–95, 110n.6 rhythm, xx, 9–10, 14, 39–40, 42–43, 97– 99, 247–57, 264 accentual, 12–13 poetic, 52–53, 53–54n.8, 175n.6, 264, 266, 272n.1 speech, 53n.7 rhythmicality, 16–17, 60, 62–63, 110n.6, 264 Samuel 2 Sam 1:19–27 161–68, 183n.24, 221, 247 2 Sam 1:19 211–12 2 Sam 1:20 93n.41, 146–47, 151n.104, 152 2 Sam 1:21 134–35, 142–43, 148n.101, 150, 208–9, 218–19, 268–69, 278–79 2 Sam 1:22 151n.104, 152, 158–59, 190 2 Sam 1:24 218–19, 233n.17 2 Sam 1:25 197, 218–19 2 Sam 1:26 192, 218–21, 261 saturation, 174–75n.5 schema, xxii–xxiii, 108n.1 segmentation into equal parts, 115n.22, 136n.79, 210n.73, 228–29, 232, 257, 262n.74, 296n.4 segregation, 17–18, 64, 83, 85–86, 87, 93–95, 95n.46, 226 sharpening, 138n.83, 144–48 short-term memory, 15–16n.39, 263n.78 See also immediate memory constraint similarity, 86–106, 108, 111n.7 line-end, 95n.49, 250, 289 line-initial, 94–101 in relation to poetic structure, 100n.61 semantic, 93–94 of sounds, 88–93, 95, 100, 102–3, 115n.22, 129, 130, 134–35, 178, 235n.18, 242–43, 297 within line-groupings, 93–95
simplicity, 64, 78–81, 188 Smith, Barbara Herrnstein, 8n.18, 17– 18, 36, 52n.3, 70–71, 94n.45, 108– 9, 188–90, 192, 194, 197, 198–99, 200, 204–5, 207, 216n.88, 229–30, 247n.40, 300n.20 Song of Songs, 247, 298–99 1:2–3 230n.12 1:2–4 243–45 1:4 246 1:5 151n.104, 152–54 1:7 230n.12 2:4–7 245–46 2:5 248–49, 269n.97 2:7 229n.10, 234–35, 278–79 3:5 235n.19 5:8 235n.19, 246, 269n.97 5:10–16 246 6:1–3 246 6:4 230–31 6:5 230–31 6:10 154n.109 7:2 (ET 7:1) 260–61 7:12–13 236–37 8:4 235n.19 8:6 260–61 8:13 259–61 sounds, xxi See also similarity, of sounds stability, 109, 141, 143–44, 159, 171, 186, 191–97, 220 See also equilibrium staircase parallelism, 64–65n.19, 96nn.52–53 stanza, xv, 37, 237–38 Sternberg, Meir, 128n.54, 131n.68, 272, 274n.10, 277, 278nn.19–20, 283, 285 stichography. See layouts of poetry Strawn, Brent, 12n.32, 13n.35, 278n.17, 280–81 structure, 16, 285–88, 297n.14 syntactic, 13n.35, 46–49 (see also deep structure; surface structure) See also poetic structure structural mode, 6–7, 51–52, 53, 273– 74, 288–92 See also poetic structure surface structure, xv–xvi, 12–13, 15– 16n.39, 17, 49n.55, 132n.70, 133– 35, 176, 272
A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts [ 327 ]
syllable counts, xv symmetry, 80–81, 91–92, 105, 106, 107– 71, 189, 208, 221 in prose narrative, 283–88 of eight lines, 157–59 of line-fours, 150–57 of line-pairs, 111–20 of line-triples, 148–50 of nine lines, 157 partial, 125–35 semantic, 116–17, 119 of whole poem, 161–68 syntactic approaches to biblical poetry, 13n.35, 46–49 template, xxi, 35, 36–37, 41–42, 52–53, 56, 62–65, 94–95, 110n.6, 173, 179–80, 301 temporality, xx, 59, 63–64, 94–95, 102, 110–11, 135–36, 143, 154, 174–75, 188–89, 197, 211, 263–64, 272n.3, 285–86 terrace pattern, 129n.61, 228n.7 terseness, 45, 230–31, 278–79 Tsur, Reuven, 16–19, 33, 39–40, 45, 47–48n.52, 53–54nn.6–8, 60– 61, 64n.18, 70, 83n.18, 108–9, 120, 136n.79, 138nn.83–84,
140–41n.88, 146n.95, 147n.98, 173n.4, 190, 196–97, 197n.51, 208, 221n.95, 228–29, 231n.14, 232, 235–36nn.21–22, 248n.41, 257n.63, 263–67, 267n.92, 276n.13 Ugaritic texts, 20–21, 23–24, 31–32, 300–1 unqualified assertion, 207 utterance (pragmatic), 227n.2, 250– 51n.47, 255n.58, 289n.43 verse, 52–53, 272–75 and prose, 53, 272–75, 280–83 terminology, xv verse-poetry. See verse, terminology versification system, 59–64, 82–83, 110n.6, 271–72, 299 vertical grammar, 155n.110 visual form, xx, 22–23, 56, 235–36 vocative, 82, 161–62n.124, 211n.76, 213n.83, 218–19, 220 Whitman, Walt, 94n.45, 300n.20 Williams, William Carlos, 61–62 word order, 77, 88–89, 91–92, 150–51, 211–15, 218–20, 231–33, 278–79
[ 328 ] A Selective Index of Authors, Subjects, and Biblical Texts